The Rehabilitation of Andrew Oikonny
by Basil-Ovelby
Summary: If there's one thing that's important in life, it's family. It also happens to be the one thing that Dash Bowman doesn't want to lose. Some Dash x OC and Dash x Andrew, so you've been warned.
1. Part 1

This'll be the ending to the Andrew trilogy that I've inadvertently made… and another long one to boot.

Oh, and it's totally screwing with my head. Have fun!

There are and will be a few references to my other two Andrew fics, but nothing you won't be able to understand readily without having read them.

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The Rehabilitation of Andrew Oikonny

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Part 1

The first thing that Dash noticed when he sat down was the unnerving feeling that gathered in his gut. He felt like he wasn't supposed to be here. Like he'd done something wrong. Like everyone was looking at him.

In reality, there was only one other person there – a rather old badger that was chewing on his cud with his fingers intertwined across his belly. Said badger was a few seats away, obviously waiting the same as he was.

He twiddled his fingers a bit nervously on the counter in front of him, staring at what he could make of his reflection in the glass just a few inches away. The seat, itself, was rather uncomfortable, forcing him to shift his position every now and then, but it wasn't the chair that bothered him the most.

A door opened a short ways away, causing his heart to skip a beat. He immediately sat up straight in the chair, already large ears perking up to an even more outrageous size.

A terrier in orange attire strode past his booth, being led by a guard. They kept walking until they'd made it to the badger's booth, the terrier taking his seat on the other side of the glass a bit begrudgingly.

Dash gave a small sigh, falling back down into his chair. It took his heart a few seconds to return to its normal rate.

Maybe this had been a bad idea. Really, what had he been thinking? He didn't belong here.

The door opened again, practically giving him another heart attack. His hands instinctively clutched the arms of his chair. Biting his lip, he held his breath without even knowing it, just waiting.

The person who took the seat across from him was not what he'd been expecting. In fact, he almost wondered if they'd brought the right inmate at all! The person in front of him looked nothing like him aside from the species. His skin seemed to be losing its color, along with his hair, which almost looked slightly green. He was deathly thin, Dash wondering if he even ate anything at all, and he looked like he hadn't slept in about a week. Overall, he looked, well, horrible was the best word that Dash could think of. This couldn't _possibly _be-

He was staring at him. A rather perturbed expression was now spread across his face. Dash snapped out of his small trance when he realized how rude he was being.

A bit shakily, he reached his hand out to grab the telephone receiver on the side of his booth. It felt almost clammy beneath his fingers. When he brought it to his ear, he glanced through the glass to see if his companion was doing the same.

It took a few moments, but he finally did, giving an exasperated sigh as he did so. Lazily gripping the receiver between his fingers, he let it hang next to his ear.

Dash didn't say anything for a second, suddenly more unsure of himself than he'd ever felt before.

"A… Andrew? Andrew Oikonny?"

Andrew gave a prolonged yawn from across the barrier, his eyes never leaving Dash. "...who the hell are you?"

Dash blinked a few times, mouth moving but nothing coming out. "I... I, er... it's Dash. Dashyl Bowman. Your cousin?"

The expression on Andrew's face froze for a second before scrunching up slightly in confusion. His eyes traveled up to the right, as though wracking his brain.

And then they opened much wider.

He looked back at Dash, bemused.

Dash wasn't sure what to say. His cousin kept simply looking at him, staring him down as if he'd never seen something quite so interesting before.

"I... er..."

"_Dash._ As in... little Dash." Andrew held up his hand about a foot off the counter.

He wasn't sure exactly what he meant, but he decided that this was probably correct. He nodded.

"Cripes, I didn't even _recognize_ you... I mean, I haven't seen you since... since..." His eyes traveled upwards again, searching for something deep back in his mind. He obviously didn't find it, though, because he never finished the sentence.

Dash gave a small chuckle. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I really don't remember _you_ at all."

Andrew didn't say anything at first, eyes still skyward. Finally, he looked back down to Dash, chewing on his lip. "What brings you this way, then? I wouldn't call this the best location for a family reunion."

Dash averted his eyes, staring down at the counter. "Well, I, when I heard the news, you see... when I found out that..."

"...that your cousin was in the slammer?"

He cringed slightly. "...er, yes. Exactly. Well, I just, I wanted to help... I don't really remember you, but, we _are_ family..."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "This is true."

There was a rather awkward silence as Dash was once again at a loss for words. He cursed his nasty habit of clamming up whenever he had to talk to someone he wasn't especially comfortable with.

"...I wanted to help..."

Andrew was curling the wire from the telephone around his finger, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "I can see you've done a lot."

"H-hey! What's that tone for? And just so you know, I _have_ done a lot already." Dash was leaning forward a bit in his chair now.

Andrew leaned back in his own, one arm crossed behind his head. "What, you send brownies or something? Or maybe you think just coming to talk to me is gonna help me somehow? Nice one, cuz. I feel better already!"

Dash smashed his finger against the glass. "You know, with _that _attitude, I'm starting to doubt you even deserve any help! Everything I've done and you're not the least bit-"

"_What? What all_ have you done?" Andrew leaned forward to match his cousin's stance.

Dash cocked his head to the side, losing a bit of his ferocity. "You mean they didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"They're gonna let you come live with me."

Andrew jerked backwards, eyes narrowed. "No, they did _not_ tell me that."

"Yeah, you were about to get out on parole anyway, so I talked with the police and military... obviously I pull a few strings there... you'll have to stay in the apartment and all unless you're with me... check in with an officer once a week, all that kinda stuff, but it'll get you out of-"

"So I'll still be in jail."

"W-what? No, you'll be stayi-"

"But I won't be able to leave. Won't be able to do anything I wanna do. I'm _already _living that! It's called _jail_." Andrew said the last bit practically up and out of his chair before settling back down into it.

Dash just stared back at him blankly, his hand still in the air from his previous gestures. "You... you'll be..."

"Staying with you? Oh, joy! And how do I know I'll enjoy that anymore than being with the bastards here?" Andrew crossed his arms in front of him and leaned on the counter, only keeping the phone to his ear with the tips of his fingers.

Dash's face fell. "I... thought..."

Another awkward silence. Dash was looking down at the counter again.

"Look, I don't want your flippin' pity, so why don't you just be on your way an-"

"No."

Andrew raised an eyebrow.

Dash didn't even raise his head at first. "You don't have any right to talk to me like that you ungrateful _brat_." He was leaning forward now. "I don't know what you've got stuffed up that unappreciative ass of yours, but I've put too much work into this by now, and I _don't_ have to take this from you."

Andrew didn't have anything to say, simply leaning back in his chair, eyes wide.

"Now..." Dash pointed his finger into the glass. "You're gonna come with me, and that's _final_. Got it? So I'd get your stuff ready if I was you."

He sat back down in the seat with a note of finality, abruptly hanging up the receiver as he did so. He crossed his arms, just staring back through the glass. There was nothing Andrew could do, nothing he could even say as their line of communication was now cut off.

That being said, he simply scowled, glaring back at him with an equal look of rebellion.

It wasn't until the guard had come to take Andrew that Dash finally questioned what he'd just done.

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Andrew was given his clothes and small bag of personal things back when he left. He'd had to go through some exceedingly tedious paperwork, signing his name at least twenty times, before he was finally on the last leg of his exit from the jail. He gripped the bag between his arm and chest, looking around himself as he stood in silence. Guards and officers of all kinds were walking past him.

He wondered what would happen if he just walked outside now. The doors were so close. He could make it – he was sure he could. No one would even notice.

The secretary at the desk a few feet away was busy in her work, none of the officers were paying him any heed... in fact, most of them probably didn't even know he was still technically an inmate.

The door opened as someone walked out, a blast of cold air whipping inside. He could see snowflakes falling just outside the protective glass walls of the waiting area. He suddenly wasn't so sure he wanted to step outside in that.

Just as he was really beginning to grow tired, he heard the door open again, a glance over revealing a familiar face walking his way.

"Sorry... it took me longer to drive from the office than I thought it would."

Andrew just glared at him, eyes narrowed.

Dash pulled the scarf down that he'd had wrapped around his neck, rubbing his hands together a few times to bring the warmth back into them.

"You haven't been waiting too long?"

No answer.

"What, so now you're not talking to me?"

No answer.

"That's real mature, Andrew."

Andrew finally just turned away, scowling.

Dash made his way up to the secretary's desk, and Andrew watched as he sat down, being presented with a number of his own forms to fill out. He assumed that most of his cousin's paperwork had been done beforehand, but apparently, he still had more to do. His grip on his bag tightened slightly.

He must have waited another ten minutes, growing more and more irked as he did so, before Dash finally stood up from the chair. The secretary was now gathering up the forms, and an officer that had mysteriously appeared sometime in those ten minutes took one of them for his own, shaking Dash's hand.

Andrew couldn't help but feel like he'd just been sold.

"Alright, ready to go?"

Dash was back at his side already, which made him give a slight jump. The irritated expression was already back on his face, however.

Apparently, not having expected an answer, Dash simply began making his way towards the door. Andrew didn't have much choice save to follow him, so he begrudgingly lazed his way there as well, shoulders hunched forward.

Dash turned around. "You don't have a coat?"

Blank look.

Dash sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Fine, fine... here, just take mine for now." He started pulling his jacket off. "I have a sweater, so I should be fine." Rearranging the scarf around his neck, he held the jacket out for Andrew to take.

Andrew didn't move.

"Take the coat!" He thrust the jacket forward again.

Still nothing.

Dash clenched his teeth together. "Oh my _god_, are we three years old now?" He gave an exasperated sigh and stepped forward, yanking one of Andrew's arms out so he could try and pull the coat over his frame. The entire situation was starting to piss him off to no end.

Andrew didn't help at all as Dash struggled to get the coat on him, but after a few minutes, he'd finally accomplished the feat, stepping back with an exceedingly irritated expression on his face.

"Let's go."

He opened the door with a bit more force than he'd been meaning to, stepping out into the light covering of snow that was already littering the sidewalks. Andrew followed wordlessly, still carrying his bag like a life-support.

It didn't take them long to reach the lot where Dash had parked his car, though it took him a few tries to unlock it given his freezing cold fingers. He started it up as soon as he got inside, hoping the heat would kick in shortly. Andrew had opened the passenger door, slipping in to the seat beside him. He now sat with his hands in his lap, staring at the dashboard.

"Alright, Andrew. Let's just get one thing straight, ok?"

There was no response, but Dash hadn't expected one.

"We're gonna get along. I don't want anymore of this mopey business. You're gonna have a better place to sleep, better food, better... well... _everything_, ok? I'm doing this for you!" His tone was almost pleading.

When there was still no reply, he finally just sighed and turned back to the wheel. The heat was finally starting to kick in, offering him at least _some_ comfort.

"...whatever."

Andrew turned to look out the window, leaning his elbow against the door.

Dash bit his lip before giving his cousin a rather pitied look.

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The ride home was uneventful, as was the walk from the car to Dash's apartment. Up the elevator and then three to the left. The sound of the key in the lock echoed in Andrew's head.

When Dash flicked the lightswitch on, it revealed a rather homey kitchen area with a small living room just past it. The table and counters weren't much to look at, but at least they were something. The couch did look pretty comfy. Past that, Andrew could see doors leading to what he assumed were a bedroom and a bathroom.

"Home sweet home."

Andrew yawned.

Dash pulled his scarf off, then held his hand out for the coat Andrew was wearing. When Andrew did nothing except step further in the room, glancing about, he let out an already-too-common exasperated sigh and reached out to pull the coat off of him. Andrew simply jerked back a few times, not paying him any heed.

Upon acquiring the coat, he hung both of them up in the nearby closet before sliding his shoes off near the door and walking all the way into the apartment. Andrew remained in the middle of the kitchen, still clutching his bag. The light from above his head was making his skin look even more sickly, which caused Dash to cringe slightly. He grabbed one of his shirt sleeves and tugged him towards the living room.

"I'll give you the grand tour."

Spreading his hands out, he gestured towards the area around him. "This is the living room..." He trailed off, not knowing what else to say. "That's the, uh... kitchen... obviously..."

Andrew followed his gestures with his eyes lazily.

"You'll be sleeping on the couch. I'll get you some extra blankets and such in a bit."

"Oh boy."

Dash's eye twitched slightly, but he finally just disregarded the comment and walked towards the nearby doors. "Bathroom's here... this is my room." He pointed to each in turn. "Not really that complicated..."

He gave Andrew a quick up-and-down. "We'll... probably have to get you some new clothes eventually. But for now... uhhh..." He ran a hand through his hair, eyes narrowing in thought. "I'm not really sure if much of my stuff will fit you, given that you're taller than me... but some of it might."

Andrew stared at him.

"Here, just a sec." He walked back into his room, the sound of drawers being opened soon following. When he came back out, he tossed him a small pile of clothes, which turned out to be a rather large, white tank top and a pair of boxers. "Don't worry, they're clean."

Andrew looked at them as if he'd never seen clothes before in his life.

"Er..." The awkward silence was back. Dash brought a hand up to scratch behind his neck. "Anyway, uh... that'll work for now."

It was starting to kill him – that awkwardness.

"So, uh... yeah... you can watch TV or something... if you want..."

Andrew's gaze drifted to said appliance.

"Anyway, I'm gonna go... change..."

He darted in his room quickly, shutting the door behind him. Once he was finally out of sight, he let himself fall back on the door and slide down it until he was seated. He brought his hands to his head.

Why had he decided to do this? Why did he even think that this was a good idea? The two of them didn't know each other. They came from completely different worlds. So far, they seemed to be _hating_ each other...

And now he was stuck with him.

He sighed, massaging his temples. He heard the sound of the TV starting up coming through his door.

He'd give it a few more days. Maybe things would get better... they _were_ related, weren't they? There had to be _some_ common bond between them.

He rested his head back on the door, staring at the ceiling.

Why did all his ideas tend to turn out like this?

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fzzzzzzzz

_click_

"...which will bring us to our next topic: the pedestrian on the mo-"

_click_

"...but Henry, I... I don't think I could live without you. You're everything to m-"

_click_

"...mountain lions. Wild, yet regal, but ready to lead the countr-"

_click_

"...the graceful butterfly drifts down unsuspectingly, landing on the bridge of the green plant. Without a second warning, the jaws of the plant are around it, sucking it down into the digestive juices."

Andrew was staring at the screen, remote still held in his hand. Finally, he set it down on his leg and settled back in the cushions of the couch.

"...ripping apart the membranes as the exoskeleton of the tiny insect is crushed..."

"So... what all's been goin' on with you... since... well, since... ever...?"

Andrew turned to see that Dash had returned, now sitting on the arm of the couch. He'd changed into a pair of flannel pants. Raising an eyebrow, he returned his gaze to the TV.

"Guess."

"...the family of butterflies descends to investigate the disappearance of their brother..."

"Ok, so... maybe that wasn't the best question. I just, well... I mean, there's so much that we... shouldn't we have something we can talk about?" He scooted off the arm and onto the actual couch itself.

"Dash, I haven't seen you since I was eight years old. We have nothing in common. Our entire relationship to date revolved around you chewing on my finger." He pointed a finger against the other's mouth, pushing his head back slightly.

"...the carnage begins as the entire field of venomous plants begins snatching them out of the sky, wings fluttering uselessly..."

Dash pushed away his hand. "So, we haven't spent much time together... that doesn't mean there isn't _something _we can relate to. Hell, isn't there something we both enjoy? Something we both find interesting?"

Andrew gave him an almost disbelieving look, wincing slightly. He started to say something, but then decided against it, simply turning back to the TV.

"W...what was that for?"

"...limbs ripped from their bodies, they lie helplessly in the pools of sizzling acid, their wings disintegrating in front of their eyes..."

Andrew didn't respond.

"Andrew... _what was that look for?_"

"Are you really that naïve?"

Dash's eyebrows furrowed.

"You sound like a flippin' kindergarten teacher." His voice rose a few octaves. "'Something we both find interesting'."

Dash learned forward a bit, one hand digging into the fabric of the couch. "Well, I'm _sorry_ for trying to make conversation. Maybe I just won't say _anything _anymore!"

"Make my day."

Both of them sat in silence once more, almost identical scowls etched across their faces.

"...the skies become quiet once the flutter of activity is gone. No more butterflies flit about amongst the trees. No more color in sight."

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Dash looped his tie up and through the knot near his neck, pulling it down tight to complete his morning dress-routine. A quick glance in the mirror told him he was ready, so he made his way over to the door, shutting off the overhead light before turning the handle quietly.

The rest of the apartment was dark, silent. It felt strange given that he was used to turning on almost all the lights every morning.

Walking out to the living room, he glanced down at the couch to find his cousin curled up on it, blankets wrapped around him as if he was trying to burrow into the backside of the cushions. He idly tucked in a part of his shirt that he'd missed, taking a moment or two before continuing on to the kitchen.

The smell of coffee already permeated the air, which made him feel almost ten times better right away. He turned on the stovelamp, not wanting to risk waking Andrew, and then ventured over to the cupboards to get a travel mug.

One-third milk and three spoonfuls of sugar.

He stirred the coffee in his mug, curling his tail up behind him. He let the tiniest of sighs escape his mouth, the air rushing upwards to blow back a bit of hair that had fallen into his eyes. When he was finished, he popped the top onto the mug and walked it over to the table where he'd already set his keys and ID card. From there, all he had to do was gather his shoes from the closet and slide them on, fetching his coat at the same time. He hoped it would be at least slightly warmer today than yesterday, but he somehow doubted it would be.

When he was finished, he slid the ID card around his neck, picking up both his keys and mug, and then made his way to the door. He was careful to both open and close it quietly, locking it securely behind him.

It was snowing again outside. Bit, fat snowflakes this time – ones that flew in lazy circles down to the ground. Dash glanced up at them as he unlocked his car, only slightly visible in the dim, morning light.

Getting to work was fairly simple from his apartment, at least in the morning. He'd devised a system that got him past most of the stoplights without even hitting a red one. Getting home was always a different matter, as that was the busiest time of day, but he enjoyed the fact that he had control over at least part of his commute.

He pulled into the same parking spot he used every day upon his arrival. It was always there. Always waiting for him. The same guard that sat there everyday waved him hello as he walked through security. The same stain on the staircase was still there as he ascended to the second floor.

And the same smart-mouthed, gecko he saw everyday was sitting on top of his desk when he arrived.

"Yooo... Dash, my _man_. Good to see you in one piece!"

"Good morning, Edwud."

The lizard twisted around on the desk as Dash walked in behind it, pulling the chair out and shrugging his coat off his shoulders.

"So, how'd it go with the cuz?"

Dash gave a small grimace before he could stop himself, plopping down into the chair with a whoosh of air.

"That bad, huh?"

He didn't answer at first, turning on his computer with a beep and taking a sip from his coffee.

"You see, I _told _you thi-"

"It's fine, Ed... really. It's fine."

His companion leaned forward, balancing himself on the desk with his hand. "...so... what's he like? Crazy as we all said he would be?"

Dash glared at him. "He's _not..._ crazy."

Edwud raised an eyebrow.

"Just a little misguided."

The gecko crossed his arms over his chest. "A little, huh? Then why the long face?"

"Well, we don't exactly see things eye to eye."

The computer monitor lit up, text racing across the screen as it booted. At the first prompt, Dash entered his username and password.

"Not surprising... you know what they all say about him, don't you?"

"Ed. Please."

"They say his unc-"

"_Ed._"

He stopped his sentence short, though anyone could tell that he wasn't really finished talking. He was silent for a few more moments.

"Which would technically make that your gr-"

"Ed_, please._"

The glare that accompanied this shut him up for good. He took another sip of coffee, watching as his computer finished loading.

Edwud gave a little shrug. "M'just sayin', is all. Like I said, I knew this was a bad idea from the start."

"I'm not going to abandon my family... it's not like I have a lot left."

The gecko's face fell a bit as he scratched his neck. Dash was now busy typing away at the keyboard.

After a minute or two of silence, Edwud finally brightened up again. "Hey, I know somethin' might make ya feel better."

Dash raised his eyebrows, though he kept his eyes on the computer screen. "Mm?"

The gecko leaned in close, cupping one hand around the side of his mouth. "After you left last night... Amy came by looking for you."

Dash froze, leaving the 'substantial' he was typing cut off after the 'n'. He turned his head towards Edwud. "Wha... what did she want?"

Edwud shook his head. "Don't know – she didn't say. Looked a bit down when I told her you were gone, though."

Dash brought a hand up to scratch at his neck beneath his tie. "She never comes down here..."

"I know! I mean... what else could it be, eh?" He playfully shoved his elbow into Dash's shoulder. "Maybe you should go talk – to – her."

"I... I couldn't... I mean... really? I should?"

Edwud simply nodded. "You'll never know if you don't try."

"_Mister_ Reynard!"

Edwud gave a startled jump, instinctively hunching over.

"Last I checked, desks were for _working_ and not _sitting_, or were you perhaps giving Mr. Bowman some sort of service that I'm not aware of."

The gecko chuckled nervously, turning himself around and sliding off the desk. "M... Mr. Gualtier! Didn't see you... come in..."

The eagle, however, found nothing funny, simply glaring at him from behind his glasses. "I also recall that work started at 7:30, and given that it's currently 7:3_6_, that would make you late, would I be correct?"

"I'm going, I'm going!" Edwud scampered off down the hall towards his own cubicle, almost tripping as he did so.

The eagle watched him for a few moments, before turning back to Dash. "I trust, everything is alright, Mr. Bowman?"

Dash gave him a rather lost look.

"At home. I heard about you taking in your cousin... Andrew, was it?"

"Ah, y, yes... Mr. Gualtier." His eyes fell to his desk.

"I do applaud you. After that horrifying disaster with his uncle so many years ago, I'm reluctant to trust _anyone_ of that name. The Oikonny family is no good, and you'd do well to remember that." He tapped his finger down on the desk.

"I will... Mr. Gualtier."

"Right, well, see that you keep him on a tight leash. Wouldn't want any other... _misfortunes..._" He gave the desk a final tap and then walked off, still mumbling something under his breath.

Dash watched him go, waiting until he couldn't see him anymore before letting his breath out and falling on top of the desk. He let his eyes close. Did _everybody_ know about it now? He'd told his friends, yes... but... word must have got out somehow. He hadn't exactly wanted everybody and their _mothers_ to know he was taking in a convict, let _alone_ that they were related!

Why did this situation keep getting worse and worse?

He longed to be back in the sky, flying in his fighter and off to some distant planet away from the office. Away from his home. Away from all this _shit_ that he'd gotten himself into. He could almost feel the controls beneath his hands, his fingers finding all the right buttons on instinct as he whipped through a roll or two.

But that time was gone now, and he was pretty sure it was never coming back. So much for settling down in a safer environment. So much for getting on with the rest of his life.

He let a puff of air escape from his mouth, blowing the hair out of his eyes.

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When he stepped back into his apartment that evening, he wasn't quite ready for what he saw. The table was covered with food, most of it half in its container or simply sitting out on the wood.

Most of it needing badly to be _refrigerated_.

He clenched his teeth together, shrugging his coat off his shoulders and slipping his shoes off. "Andrew?"

He glanced around, not seeing him at first since he was now looking at the mess in the living room. Clothes had been scattered about, a blanket half falling off the couch, a number of open chip bags littering the floor...

"_Andrew?_"

He was sprawled across the couch, reading a magazine.

"Andrew, what the hell have you done to my apartment?" He walked over to the couch, hands on his hips.

Andrew didn't even look up at him. "Don't know what you're talkin' about."

"This... this place!" Dash spread his arms, gesturing to everything around him. "It's a mess! Don't give me any of that!"

"I was hungry."

"For everything in the fridge?! And... and... you couldn't even put any of it away?!" Dash gripped the sides of his head, letting out a frustrated groan. "I don't even _want_ to know what... else..." He'd turned his head towards his bedroom, seeing the door open and clothes scattered about in there as well.

"My room!"

He darted inside, head moving back and forth as he took everything in. Almost every drawer was open with clothes hanging out, the bed had been mussed as if it had been jumped on, half the clothes in the closet were falling off the hangars...

"Oh yeah, I was trying to find something to wear!" Andrew's voice came from the other room.

Dash turned back around almost instantly. "Oh, _were_ you?!" Stomping back into the living room, he marched right back over to the couch where Andrew was still seemingly engrossed in the magazine. "Andrew... if you do not clean this up..."

"I don't see where it's any of _my_ responsibility, Mr. Host."

Something inside of him snapped, and he grabbed the collar of Andrew's tank top, pulling him off the couch. "You... you fucking _brat!_ You self-absorbed _brat!!_ Just who do you think you are?"

Andrew pushed him away angrily. "Call me all the names you want – I don't care! You're the one who wanted me here... I didn't ask for it!"

Dash shoved him back. "You are the most ungrateful, spoiled degenerate I've ever _met!_"

"Well, at least I don't pretend to be something I'm not, unlike _some_ people in this room!" Another shove, this one even harder.

Dash was pissed now. He ran at Andrew, smacking him clear to the floor. Raising his fist, he hovered menacingly over his cousin's form, his arm shaking in anticipation.

But something stopped him.

Andrew was shaking. Visibly shaking. He crawled back away from Dash, hands over his head. Tiny whimpers escaped from his throat.

Venom gone for a moment, his arm lowered slightly. "...Andrew?"

Andrew had curled himself up into a ball on the floor, having backed himself up until he'd run into the wall.

Dash's arm was all the way down now. He took a step towards his cousin, tentatively. Andrew shrank back even more.

"...Andrew?"

He walked towards him carefully, wincing as he saw Andrew's shaking increase with every step. By the time he'd kneeled down beside him, he was practically crying.

"Andrew... what's...?"

He brought a hand up to rest on his cousin's back. He immediately felt Andrew tense up beneath him, before, just as abruptly, it was gone. Everything. No more shaking, no more whimpers.

Nothing.

Fear overtook him and he grabbed Andrew's shoulders, turning him over so he could tell what was wrong. Andrew's eyes were open, glazed over, staring off into space. His entire body hung limply in his arms.

He'd completely shut himself off.

Dash felt his heart twist in his chest, biting his lip almost painfully. He set Andrew back down on the ground, watching his chest rise and fall ever so slightly.

"Andrew, what the hell happened to you?"

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Dash spent the rest of the night cleaning up the apartment. It actually didn't take him as long as he thought it would – most of it was simple clothes-folding or putting stuff away. There were a few things that had been left out on the table that didn't look entirely healthy anymore, so he threw them out, but other than that, it wasn't too bad.

He kept glancing over at where he'd left Andrew on the couch. He still hadn't moved – same lifeless eyes staring back at him.

Dash frowned as he re-tied the twist on the loaf of bread he was putting away.

Why did it seem like these kinds of screwed-up things always happened to him? First his mom, now his cousin...

He shook his head to clear the rather disturbing thoughts out of his head.

The apartment was practically back to the way it had been before now, and he couldn't help but feel slightly proud of his cleaning skills. It had, however, made him rather hungry, so he decided to fix himself some dinner. Nothing too fancy or that would take too long to make – he was friggin' tired. He finally decided on grilled cheese.

He turned on the radio to give him some background noise as he cooked, though he couldn't seem to find anything good playing. In fact, most of the songs seemed to annoy him. He finally just shut it off, preferring to peruse his thoughts in silence.

The sandwich tasted absolutely wonderful. Quite possibly the best thing he'd ever eaten. The sound of his teeth chewing was echoing in his head, only the dim buzz of the overhead light above him adding to it.

It was already dark outside. He'd closed the blinds on the windows and turned on most of the lights, but he could still feel it. The darkness.

He really didn't like it.

He ran a hand through his hair as he finished up the last few bites of his meal, staring down at the now empty plate. He remained seated for a few minutes longer, recuperating himself. Readjusting himself. Taking in everything that had happened to him that day.

Finally, with a little sigh, he hoisted himself up, carrying the plate with him to the sink. He didn't even bother cleaning it, telling himself that he would do it tomorrow. When he glanced back at where the skillet was cooling off, he found the second sandwich he'd made just sitting there, almost innocently.

He stared at it long and hard.

After what seemed like ages, he walked over to it, grabbing a napkin to place it on. Making his way back into the living room, he set the sandwich down on the arm of the couch, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What's the cousin report today?"

Dash let out an exasperated sigh. "Is this going to be a daily occurrence?"

"What can I say? I'm intrigued. Curious. I wanna know."

The gecko was sitting on his desk again, like he always was. At least this time, Dash had been able to get _some_ work done before he came.

"Andrew's fine."

"Fine as in 'everything's hunky-dory' or fine as in 'holy crap, Edwud, leave me alone'?" Edwud grinned.

"Both."

"Daaaash, come on... you keep this crazy guy at your house and you don't tell me a lick about what's going on! Isn't it the least bit exciting?"

Dash finished reading the memo that had popped up on his screen, exiting out of it with a pronounced click of the mouse. "One – Andrew's not crazy. Two – it's no more exciting than trying to have a conversation with you."

"So in other words, fun and adventurous with a witty surprise hiding behind every corner?"

Dash's facial expression read 'not amused'.

"Right, right... fine... I'd still like to meet him sometime, though. You should bring him into work."

"You know, unlike some people here, I don't _want_ to get fired from my job."

"What do you mean by th-"

"Mr. _Reynard!_" The voice echoed from down one of the aisles.

"Crap, crap, crap..." The gecko went skirting off towards his cubicle, ducking down as he went.

Dash merely shook his head, looking back towards his computer screen. He was about to open the e-mail he'd got entitled "Fwd: SIP: Operating Council Agenda" when he got the strongest sense that somebody was looking at him.

He turned his head.

"O-oh, I'm sorry!" The girl standing by his desk ducked her head down. "I... uh, Dash, right?"

Dash felt himself clam up almost instantly, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"I... I don't know if you know me or not... it's Amy. Amy Parsons."

Like _hell_ he didn't know her.

He shook his head, trying to reorient himself without looking like a total idiot. "Y-yeah. Dash."

She was glancing about a bit nervously, bringing a hand up to run through her hair. "I just... stopped by... I heard about your cousin."

Dash felt his heart sink a bit, suddenly knowing where this was going.

"I, well... I wanted to say that I was... worried about you. Isn't he... dangerous?"

Dash wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to feel at this. He couldn't lie in that fact that hearing Amy worrying about him made him feel good, but...

"Well, he is a little, yes. You can never be too careful. I've always gotta be on my guard." He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the desk.

"Oh, that's so scary! I... I find it very noble of you to take him in like that... I..."

"It was the least I could do. I felt sorry for him, you know?"

"Y, yes... I... my father, he... he was one of the ones killed... back then..." She hugged the small pile of papers she was carrying against her chest.

Dash chewed on his lip nervously. "Oh, oh really?"

"Yes, but... I hold nothing against you, of course! No, you're, you're much different..." There was a small smile on her face that she couldn't quite keep off.

Dash felt his heart give a little jump. "I, er, well..."

She was fidgeting. "I, well, yeah... that's just, what I wanted to say... make sure you're alright and all..."

Dash was beginning to wonder if awkward silences were following him everywhere.

"I... I should get back to work..." She hugged her papers tighter, nodding her head quickly before starting to walk off.

"I, uh... _Amy_!" He was half out of his chair, hand outstretched before he could stop himself.

She came to a quick halt, turning around nervously. Her eyes stared back at him, inquiring.

He was starting to clam up again, his mouth completely dry. "Er..." He could hear his heart beating in his chest, and was almost sure that she could hear it too. "Do you... do you want to go out for dinner... sometime?"

Her eyes widened in surprise before her entire face lit up. "I would love that, Dash."

Dash felt his chest practically swell, the nervousness gone and instead replaced with elated stupidity.

"T-t-that's great! I, uh, I..."

She walked back over to his desk, pulling something out of her pocket as she did so. It was a business card.

"Give me a call... k?"

He took the card from her hand. "Right, call." He gave a shaky laugh. "I'll do that."

She smiled at him, biting her bottom lip as she did so. "Bye... Dash." She left in a hurry once more, straightening out her skirt behind her.

It took a few moments for Dash to finally sit back down, still just staring straight ahead. For a second, he wasn't sure if what had just happened was reality or not, but when he looked down to find her card still in his hand, he knew that it was.

He felt a smile spread across his face. The kind of smile that hadn't graced his expression in quite some time.

Maybe things were starting to look up for him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When he came home from work that night, he had no idea what to expect. He opened the door tentatively, nervous that he was going to be met with a sight similar to the day before. He felt some of the tension leave him when he saw the kitchen perfectly clean – just the way he'd left it.

He ventured all the way inside, looking about. Everything seemed fine. Nothing seemed askew. It was deathly quiet.

"...Andrew?"

He shrugged his coat and shoes off, barely looking at them as he put them away. The blinds in the living room were still closed, the blankets were neatly folded on the couch, even the dirty dishes he'd left in the sink were gone.

"...Andreeeew?"

Walking into the living room, he once again looked around. Nothing. It was rather dark too, since the blinds were closed and the overhead light was off. He reached over towards the switch on the wall, feeling slightly better once light washed through the room.

The bathroom door was wide open, dark inside... he wasn't there. The bedroom seemed just as vacant.

He was starting to get concerned.

"..._Andrew?_"

He could feel his heart begin to quicken in his chest. Entering the bathroom just to be sure, he still found no one there. From there, he made his way to the bedroom, head on a swivel. The bed was perfectly made, as he'd left it, none of the drawers looked like they'd been touched...

_Where is he?_

He was _really_ beginning to get concerned now.

"Andrew, this isn't funny! Where are you?"

He was about to walk back out of the bedroom when he felt the softest breeze of chilly air. He stopped. Glancing back, he saw the curtains in front of his balcony door moving ever so slightly. The door was open.

Tentatively, he made his way over to the door, noticing the temperature slowly falling with every step. He pushed back the curtains, seeing the door slightly ajar.

And Andrew sitting out on the balcony.

Relief washed through over him like a waterfall, the pounding in his head coming to a stop. He pulled open the door and stepped outside, taking immediate notice of the icy temperature.

"Andrew?"

He was sitting on the ledge, legs dangling over the side and hands clasped around the bars of the metal railing. He was still wearing the same set of clothes he'd given him the night he came.

"Andrew, aren't you cold?"

His cousin shook his head slowly, still gazing out at the view. It had been snowing those same fat, snowflakes from the day before almost all day, and they were coming down in greater quantity now.

"You're gonna get sick out here, you know?" Dash stepped towards him, kneeling down. "I'm already freezing, and I'm wearing a sweater and pants!"

Andrew's tail was repeatedly curling and uncurling. He didn't say anything.

Dash turned his head towards the view as well, wondering what it was that was keeping Andrew so fixated, but he didn't see anything different than what was always there. Same dull buildings stretching out for a few blocks before the view was cut off by the larger buildings of the downtown area. The sky was darkening quickly, already overcast by the dim clouds in the sky. The snow was collecting on the roofs below them.

"Andrew..."

He sat there for a few more minutes, his gaze drifting back and forth from the view to his cousin. He wasn't sure if it was just the lighting, but Andrew's skin was starting to turn blue in places.

With a sigh, he finally stood up, not saying anything as he went back into the apartment. Grabbing the blanket from off the couch, he returned to the balcony, draping it over Andrew's shoulders.

Still no response from his cousin.

He brought his hand up to idly scratch the bridge of his nose, and then was back inside once more. Might as well do something productive, and right now, his stomach was urging him to make dinner.

Always going for simplicity (and bargained), he set to work making noodles and cheese, starting up the burner on the stove and mixing the ingredients together. The kitchen was soon filled with the smell of the food cooking, and Dash couldn't help but feel the comfort of the warm stove as he watched the water boil.

Setting out two sets of silverware, along with plates and glasses, he let himself rest against the refrigerator for a few moments, just staring off into space.

It had been a long day, that was for sure. Though he couldn't say it was a bad one. For once in his life, it was actually a rather good day.

He was more than a bit tired, though.

He shifted his head in the other direction so he could see the pot, the water bubbling almost up to the sides. Lazily pulling himself away from the fridge, he meandered his way back over, using a spoon to pull out a few of the noodles and test them.

They seemed fairly cooked.

He set out at once to finish up the meal then, draining it and mixing it with the cheese, finally placing the pot in the middle of the table on top of a mitt. His stomach growled.

Now there was just the matter of his cousin.

Making his way back to his bedroom, he pulled open the curtain, just about ready to step out, when he realized that Andrew was no longer there.

_Not again!_

His adrenaline threatening to overtake him, he let the curtains fall back as calmly as he could, taking a deep breath before walking back into the living room. Still no sign of Andrew.

How the hell he managed to keep disappearing like this, Dash wasn't exactly sure.

There was the sound of a toilet flushing from nearby, followed by the bathroom door opening. Andrew stepped out, rubbing at his eyes.

Dash cursed his own stupidity for not realizing the bathroom door had been closed the entire time. He brought a hand up to loosen the tie around his neck.

Andrew seemed a bit put-off at first by the fact that Dash was staring at him when he emerged. He still had the blanket draped around his shoulders, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

"Dinner's ready."

The two of them ate dinner in relative silence, only the sound of their forks hitting the bowls filling the room. Dash dove right into his food, suddenly far hungrier than he'd felt before. Already on his second helping, he kept glancing back up at Andrew, who was only half-way through his first. The older ape kept staring at the noodles on his fork for what seemed like ages before bringing them to his mouth.

Dash brought another forkful to his own mouth, chewing it slowly as he watched.

"Is there something wrong with it?"

Andrew's eyes glanced up for a second before returning to his fork. He shook his head.

Dash swallowed the food in his mouth. "You've been awful quiet today."

Finally bringing the fork up, Andrew slid the noodles off into his mouth. He shrugged.

Dash idly stirred the remaining food in his bowl, his tail curling around the back of his chair. Taking a drink from his glass, he wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. "What all'd you do today?"

All he got in return was another shrug.

Dash sighed, shoulders falling slightly. "Andrew, I... I'm sorry about last night." He looked down to his bowl before returning his gaze to Andrew, the other now lethargically chewing his food. "I, I was out of line, I know... I just... kinda lost it."

Andrew remained silent, finally swallowing his food. He let his hand rest on the table before shrugging once more.

Dash's eyes narrowed slightly. "Goddammit, Andrew, will you say something? I'm trying to apologize here!"

Their eyes met for the first time that night, and it was silent for a moment. "What do you want me to say?"

And this time, it was Dash who had no response. There was no malice in the question, no cynicism. Andrew truly wanted to know.

Something about it disturbed him. He stuffed another forkful of noodles into his mouth.

Once he'd swallowed, he brought a hand up to run through his hair, scratching the top of his head. "Andrew, I want us to be able to talk. I want to be able to know what's going on... this is never gonna work otherwise."

Andrew stared at him blankly.

"...I mean, it's... I don't know what all happened with you and my grandfather, but-"

"My uncle was a great man."

Dash was stopped completely, hand still up in mid-gesture. Andrew was now staring at his bowl intently.

Leaning back in his chair slightly, he chewed on his bottom lip. "Andrew, I... Andross was my grandfather... I _know_ what he did..."

Andrew's head slowly rose until his gaze met Dash's once more. His eyes wavered. "You don't know anything."

And Dash felt a chill in his heart colder than he'd ever felt before.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dash cleaned up the dishes in silence, scrubbing out the bottom of the pot and sending all the remaining noodles down the garbage disposal. He could hear the sound of the TV from the other room – Andrew had curled into the back of the couch after dinner, still not saying more than a few words.

He gathered up the remaining ingredients from when he'd made dinner and walked over to the fridge to put them away. He had to admit, it _was_ rather nice having someone else the apartment. It made it warmer, more like a home.

Dash liked that feeling.

Taking a damp washcloth, he ran it over the surface of the table, picking up any small spills or drips that had been left. When finished, he shook it out over the sink before washing away the grime.

He gave a little sigh, draping the cloth over the faucet. How long had he been living here now? Two years? Three? Had it really been three years since he left the military? It didn't seem possible. Three years since the war.

He closed his eyes, trying to remember what it was like again. Trying to remember that feeling of soaring through the skies, the stars spreading out forever just on the other side of the glass.

He could get lost out there. Lost forever, not even caring that he couldn't find his way back.

A horrifying crash came from the other room. Snapping out of his trance, he practically sprinted away from the sink, horrible thoughts running through his head.

"Andrew! Are you... o...k...?"

It wasn't what he'd been expecting, though truth be told, he didn't know _what_ he'd been expecting. Andrew stood next to the shelf the TV had previously sat on, staring at the new mess on the floor. The mess consisted of one very broken and cracked television set, tiny sparks visible beneath the shattered glass.

"Andrew... what..."

Dash walked forward in confusion, mouth moving wordlessly.

Andrew turned to face him, expression completely blank.

"What... did you... _do?_" Dash brought a hand to his forehead. He seemed unable to take his eyes off the still smoking rubbage pile that used to be his TV.

"It was annoying me."

Dash turned towards his cousin in a flash. "It was _annoying you?!_" His voice seemed to go up about three octaves. "That was my fucking TV!"

Andrew took a step backwards, already trying to make himself smaller.

Dash tried to calm his breathing down. Closing his eyes, he began clenching and unclenching his hands. "Andrew... do you have _any_ idea how much those things cost?"

Andrew didn't look at him for a few moments, scratching one of his fingers. Finally, his eyes drifted upwards. "...as much as a stereo?"

A look of confusion washed over Dash's face. "As much as... a..." His eyes widened, and he whipped his head over in a flurry. He hadn't even noticed it before, but the stereo that had been sitting on top of the counter dividing the kitchen and living room was now gone. "Andrew..." He next breath came out a bit shaky. "What... did you do with it?"

Andrew didn't say anything, simply pointing to the fridge.

He was there in an instant, whipping open the door. There was nothing there. Nothing besides food, that is. A sinking feeling settling in his stomach, he grabbed the handle of the freezer and opened it as well.

And there was his stereo. Frozen..._ and_ completely smashed.

Dash wanted to rip his hair out. He grabbed the sides of his head with a frustrated groan, clenching his eyes shut. "What... is your problem? What is your fucking _problem?!_" He turned back around with a fury, stomping over to where Andrew sat huddled against the wall. "_What the hell is wrong with you?_"

Andrew's fear disappeared for a second, replaced by an angry scowl as he leaned forward on his knees. "_I hate you!_"

Dash grabbed the front of his tank top with both hands, pulling him up off the ground. "Oh, you hate me, do you? What have I ever done to you?" He began shaking him, his body flailing helplessly. "_What have I ever done to you, you good-for-nothing brat?_"

But Andrew didn't answer. He was already gone.

Dash stopped shaking him, watching him hang limply from his arms. The same expression that had haunted him in his sleep the previous night had returned.

Jerking back, he let Andrew crumple to the ground. He stared down at him, motionless. His heart was beating so hard he thought it would burst out of his chest. Finally, he let himself fall to his knees, hands coming up to cover his face. His shoulders shook as tears began running down his cheeks.


	2. Part 2

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Rehabilitation of Andrew Oikonny

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Part 2

"Andrew broke my TV last night."

"He... wait... _what?_"

"He broke my TV."

"What, he broke the receptor? Screwed up the signal somehow?"

"Nope. Pushed it off the shelf. It's completely smashed."

Edwud just stared at him for a moment as he continued typing.

"He pushed... your TV... off the shelf... why?"

Dash shrugged. "I don't know. Who knows why he does _anything_ that he does?"

The gecko chewed on his bottom lip, shaking his head slightly. "That's fucked up, man."

Dash sighed, finishing the sentence he was typing and then turning forward in his chair, letting himself practically fall down onto his desk. "I seriously don't know what to do with him. He... he just... I don't _understand_ him."

"That's what I was tellin' ya. He's crazy."

Dash massaged his temples, clenching his teeth together. "I don't know what to do."

"Take him back! It's as simple as that!"

"No... it's _not_ as simple as that. I can't... I can't just abandon him. He obviously needs help. He needs... needs somebody to take care of him. But I can't figure out what's wrong! He won't _talk_ to me!"

For once, Edwud didn't say anything, knowing that Dash wasn't finished.

"He... he gives me this _look_, like... I don't even know what he's trying to say. And then, just when I think that maybe we're getting along better, he goes and does something to completely screw it up again! For no reason!"

Edwud shook his head morosely.

"I don't know, man... I'm not a psychiatrist or anything, but there's definitely something wrong with him."

Dash pounded his head lightly into the desk. "This whole situation is driving me _crazy_..."

"Don't let it screw you up _too _much – remember, you _are _the sane one between the two of you."

With a sigh, Dash pushed away from his desk, leaning back in his chair so he could look up at the ceiling.

"By the way, when are you going on that date with Amy?"

Dash immediately jerked forward. "W...what? How do know about that?"

Edwud leaned forward, that ever-present grin stretched across his face. "Dash-honey, _everybody_ knows about it."

Dash's eyes grew wide as he glanced around nervously. "E-everyone? But how?"

"Good, ole Clarice from down in accounting was walking by your desk when you asked her yesterday. And you know her... first accounting knew, and then it drifted up here easily enough..."

Dash moaned into his hands, ducking his head down. "That is definitely _not_ what I needed to hear. I haven't... haven't even _called _her yet. Why does this kind of stuff always happen to _me_?"

"Aw, come now... it's not that bad! We all support you one hundred percent! True... many of us thought you were _gay_, but..."

"What?!" His head popped up.

"Dash, you haven't had a girlfriend since you started working here. There _are _people that notice these things." The gecko picked at something on his finger.

"I'm bad at getting girls, so sue me!" He fell back into his chair with a disgruntled sigh. "Why can't I keep anything in my life _private_ anymore? And I don't even know _what_ Amy thinks about this whole thing!"

"Well, you could ask her right now..."

"Huh?" Dash sat up, and suddenly, his breath got caught in his throat.

Amy was standing just a short distance away from his desk.

Edwud spun around on his rear until he was facing the feline, cocking his head to the side with a grin. "Amy! How's it hangin'?"

Amy ducked her head slightly. "It's... it's, uh... fine... Mr. Reynard."

The gecko waved his hand in front of him. "Pleeeease... call me Ed. Really."

By this time, Dash had stood up from his chair, leaning a bit on the side of the desk. "Ah, um, Amy! Didn't see you there."

"Oh, it's really, nothing, really... I was just walking this way, so I thought I'd stop by... I don't want to be a bother..."

Dash jerked forward with his hand out. "_No! _Er, no... you're not a bother at all." He chuckled nervously. "I... was actually... just thinking of calling you!"

Edwud raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything.

"R-really?"

"Yes! Of course! I, um... was going to ask about the time for our, er, dinner..."

"Oh, yes... e-exactly."

Edwud wanted to shake his head in complete disbelief.

"Tomorrow night's... Friday, right? Yes. Friday. Would that work for you? Possibly?"

Amy chewed on the inside of her cheek, thinking. "I think so, yes. Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"That's great! Really, wonderful... um..." Dash ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck. "Six o'clock?"

She nodded. "Six o'clock."

"Meet here?"

"Yeah, that's fine." This was followed by a small chuckle.

"Great, great..." He clasped his hands together, but then immediately unclasped them, scratching the side of his arm. "I guess I'll, uh... see you tomorrow then."

"R-right... I'll see you then." She gave him one last smile before ducking her head slightly and walking off. Dash and Edwud both watched her scurry away.

As Dash finally sat back down in his chair with a whump, Edwud slid himself around until he was facing the other way.

He shook his head. "You are hopeless, man. Simply hopeless."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Where are we going?"

Dash didn't answer, his eyes on the road in front of him. The steering wheel felt like ice beneath his hands, and he wished he had remembered to bring his gloves.

Andrew was glancing idly around the car, leaning back in the seat with his hands between his legs. They'd finally found something else that fit him amongst Dash's assortment of old clothes, so he wasn't wearing shorts anymore. Now he had on a baggy pair of sweatpants that Dash had forgotten he even _owned_ and a free t-shirt he'd gotten from a Cornerian Fighters game that was two sizes too large for him. Not that you could see most of it now, as he was bundled up in a jacket.

Dash leaned his elbow against the car door beside him, letting out a small yawn.

"Where are we going?"

He let out an irritated sigh, eyes narrowing. "You'll see when we get there."

Andrew turned his head to look out the window, houses passing by as they drove down the road. It had snowed even harder that day, so the grass and sidewalks were now completely covered. A few people were out shoveling.

Dash turned the wipers on to get rid of the small bit of snow that had gathered on the windshield. The snow had slowed some by now, but it was still coming down pretty steadily.

A commercial on the radio was advertising great holiday bargains at some department store, which prompted Dash to remember how much he hated the holiday season.

With a little sigh, he turned onto the next street, being especially careful when he saw a few patches of ice littering the road. He also remembered how much he hated _driving_ during the holiday season.

It didn't take them much longer to reach their destination, and soon Dash was pulling the car into a small driveway. The house it belonged to was positively covered in snow, the drive itself not having been shoveled yet. It took Dash a few times to get the car up all the way, the tires spinning uselessly above the layers of powder.

"I should have known he wouldn't have shoveled yet..." Dash pulled the car into park, yanking his key out of the starter. "Come on, let's go."

He pushed the door open, cursing silently as the snow came practically up and into the car. He almost had to jump out of his seat, his feet immediately buried. Shutting the door was even more difficult than opening it, but he was finally able to shove it closed. He hoped there wouldn't be too much snow waiting inside it when he came back out.

As he started walking for the front door, he glanced back to make sure Andrew was coming. He seemed to be having the same troubles that Dash had, but he was finally on his way after him, almost tripping in the snow.

When they both made it to the porch, Dash pressed his finger into the doorbell, the ringing tone echoing into the house. He stomped his feet off while he waited, rubbing his hands together in the chilly air.

Andrew looked horribly confused next to him, head turning left and right as he attempted to discern their location.

After what seemed like forever, Dash finally heard footsteps beyond the door, and soon the sound of the lock clicking as well. The door opened.

"...Dash? Holy cow! It's so good to see you!"

He was immediately pulled into an embrace, which he returned in kind, burying his face into the other man's shoulder.

"It's good to see you too, Dad."

"I was hoping that you'd stop by sometime... it's been awhile since we got together last. How are things going?" He pushed him back a bit so he could look at his face. "How are things at the office?"

"Fine, fine... everything's going great. It was just like you said – I'm starting to feel more at home there. It just took a little while."

"Right, yeah..." He just looked at Dash for a few moments, smiling. "Well, come on in, don't wanna be... standing..." He noticed the other figure for the first time, his head tilting slightly. "D...Dash, who is... wait... _Andrew..._?" He took a step forward, not even minding the patches of snow on his socked feet. "_Andrew..._ is that... is that you?"

Andrew just stared at him, face blank.

"It's me... it's Gil. You remember me, don't you?"

"...Gil?"

Gil took another step forward, reaching a hand out to touch Andrew's shoulder as if he wasn't quite real.

"...Gil?" Andrew's eyes were open wide now, his mouth contorting slightly. He continued to stare straight into his face, not even blinking. Ever so slowly, he reached his own hands out, shaking, bringing them to rest on the older man's chest. "Gil?"

"It's me, Andrew."

And then he was hugging him, clutching him, burying his head into his chest. Tears were falling down his cheeks as he clenched his hands into Gil's shirt.

"Gil."

"It's ok, it's ok... shhh..." Gil wrapped his arms around Andrew's smaller form, gently patting his back. The only sounds now were Andrew's tiny gulps of air as he cried.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"He's not right, Dad."

They were watching him in the other room, sitting on one of the couches and curled up in a blanket. He was staring into the fire, the cup of hot chocolate Gil had given him earlier situated between his hands.

"I've been... trying to help him... I don't even know what I'm supposed to do..."

Gil leaned back against the kitchen counter, taking a drink from his own mug. "Well, obviously neither of us know exactly what he's been through... some of it we can guess, sure, but... even after Andross was killed, who knows? What's he been doing this whole time?"

Dash shook his head morosely, his eyes continuing to glance up and watch his cousin.

"I mean, what I saw... way back when... it probably only touched the surface. Cripes, I can only imagine what that poor kid had to suffer through..."

Dash finally turned away, looking back to his father. He brought a hand up to scratch his neck beneath the fabric of his turtleneck. "I just wish I could figure out some way to help... it seems like I'm not reaching him."

"Neither of us are psychiatrists, Dash. I find it hard enough figuring out _sane_ people sometimes."

Dash shot his father a small glare.

"Ok, ok... people without horrible pasts."

He sighed, pushing himself away from his leaning position and walking gravely to the fridge.

"He seems fine now..."

"Yeah, that's just it." Dash turned around. "You _think_ everything's going fine... you _think _you're finally starting to get through to each other... and then suddenly it all goes to hell! He does something completely off-kilter that can't be explained... I just wish I could get him to _trust_ me."

Gil scratched at the back of his neck. "Maybe that's just it – he's scared to trust you."

Dash looked at him in confusion.

"What did the last person he trusted like that do to him?"

Lowering his head slightly, he let himself fall back against the fridge, mussing up a few of the letter-magnets that were scattered about it. "I guess... yeah... I see your point."

Gil readjusted his glasses. "And the thing is, I don't know if there's anything we can even _do _about that. There might not _be_ a solution for him."

Dash didn't say anything.

"All you can do is hope for the best but expect the worse. Keep doin' what you're doin'... you never know if you're actually making headway or not."

He rolled his head to the side until he could see back into the family room again, Andrew's form visible on the couch.

Gil stared down into his now-empty mug. "I'm just... you don't know what this means... that you're doing this, Dash. I'd put off hopes of ever even seeing him again, and now..."

Dash silently chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"I know your mother... she... she would have been so happy to see him again."

The corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Yeah, Dad. She would."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dash watched Andrew over the top of the book he was reading. His older cousin was sitting in the middle of the living room, laying out the assortment of things Dash had bought him at the store once they'd left his dad's. He seemed rather intent, putting each of the clothing items in their own piles, and then the variety of other essentials such as his new toothbrush in another.

He seemed perfectly fine now, and he hadn't even done anything out-of-the-blue yet tonight. In fact, he seemed slightly subdued in general ever since they'd left his dad's.

Dash went back to his reading after a few minutes, settling himself into the pillow on his bed where he was situated. The book he was making his way through was one he'd picked up on a whim at the supermarket last time he'd gone. Something about a lost colony on a malfunctioning space station... it had looked interesting enough – was getting off to a slow start, though.

He glanced back up. Andrew was gone from the floor, though he emerged a few seconds later from the bathroom, obviously having put his toiletries inside. Next he ventured over to the clothes piles, stacking them on top of each other and cradling them in his arms.

He walked into Dash's room.

"Where do you want me to put my clothes?"

Dash lowered the book slightly, gesturing towards the chest of drawers on the far end of his room. "I already moved some of my clothes around so you could have a drawer... second from the bottom."

Andrew stared at him a second longer before traveling in that direction, kneeling down to begin placing the clothes into said drawer.

Dash couldn't help but notice how meticulous he was in putting his things away.

He went back to the book for another minute or so, rereading one of the same paragraphs he'd already read a number of times. When he finally heard the drawer being slid shut, he put the book down beside him for good.

"Andrew, we need to talk."

Andrew turned around, his eyes questioning. "What about?"

Dash bit his lip. "A number of things." He ran a hand through his hair, getting up from his lounging position. "Sit down." He patted the bed near him.

Andrew did so without much hesitation, which Dash took as a good sign. He immediately curled his legs up, his arms encircling them.

It was quiet again.

Giving a little sigh, Dash let his shoulders fall. "Andrew... I wanna know... why you won't talk to me."

Andrew's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm talking to you right now."

"That's not... that's not what I mean." He held a hand out before bringing it back in. "I want to know... what's going on in your head. I feel like I don't even understand you. I feel like you don't... trust me."

Andrew let go of his legs, now bringing his arms down to rest on his knees. His eyes were fixated on a string that was poking out of the blue comforter.

"Andrew, I want us to be able to talk... I want you to be able to trust me..." Dash's own eyes never left Andrew. "I just don't know how..."

It was silent for another moment, their positions locked into place. When Andrew still didn't acknowledge him, Dash almost wondered if he was paying attention at all.

"Andr-"

"Dash."

He head jerked back slightly.

"Have you ever had something you wanted to say... to tell someone... _so _bad, you thought you would explode..." Andrew picked at the string, still not looking at his cousin. "But no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't?"

Dash cocked his head to the side. "I'm... not sure I understand."

Andrew finally looked up, a strange, almost sad, smile now spread across his face. "That's why I can't tell you."

Dash didn't have a response, his mouth open ever so slightly. Andrew finally pulled the string free of its bonds, twirling it around in his fingers. After a moment, he held it out for Dash to take.

"Andrew..." He accepted the string, holding it in his palm.

Without a word, Andrew began to get up from the bed, pushing himself towards the edge. Just as he was about to slide all the way off, Dash darted forward to grab his wrist.

Both of them stopped.

"Andrew, about... about my grandfather, I..."

He could feel Andrew tense up beneath his grip.

"I wish there was something I could have done... I wish... I wish there was something I could still do now... I don't even know what... what..."

He was shaking now. Not very much – just enough that Dash could feel it, but shaking nonetheless. His voice, however, stayed surprisingly calm. "Dash, you've already given me more than I deserve. I... I don't deserve... any of this..."

Dash stared down at the comforter, teeth practically clenched. "Andrew, what did my grandfather do to you?"

Andrew pulled his arm back like he'd been burned, his eyes wide and body completely rigid. He was staring in Dash's direction, though he clearly wasn't seeing anything that was in front of him, lost now in the world inside his mind.

And then he was shaking his head, viciously, almost. He brought his hands to his face, clutching the sides of his head as he fell to his knees.

Dash was on his feet almost instantly, kneeling over his cousin in an attempt to calm him. "Andrew, _Andrew_... it's alright... it's _alright_..."

Just as he was about to trying pulling the other's hands from his face, he took them down himself, completely still once more. Tear-streaks lined his cheeks, however, and his bottom lip was quivering as he inhaled a raspy breath of air.

"Dash."

Dash was all the way down on his knees now, hands outstretched should the other lose it again. "...yes?"

And then Andrew turned to look at him, eyes boring into him in an almost haunting fashion. "Andross loved me."

Dash didn't say anything. There was nothing he _could_ say.

"Andross _loved_ _me_."

"Andrew, I-"

Andrew shoved him, pushing him backwards slightly, though not enough to completely unbalance him. "_He loved me_."

And then he was beating him, bringing his hands down on the other's shoulders and chest, tears running down his cheeks. "I was the one... the one who could carry things on for him. He trusted me... I was... he..."

Dash took it, not even raising his hands to defend himself. And it wasn't like he needed to, as his cousin lacked the strength in his arms to cause much pain anyway.

"I was the one that... he..." His body was beginning to take over now, already losing its energy as his blows slowed to an almost complete stop. The tears were coming heavier now, though, and with one final shove towards his cousin's chest, he simply collapsed forward, shoulders shaking.

Dash wordlessly brought his arms around him, pulling him into an embrace as he continued sobbing. It sounded horrible – Andrew's throat obviously raspy and dry, the heaves themselves made Dash cringe in empathy. His shirt was quickly becoming soaked.

He wanted to say something, anything, any kind of comforting word he could think of, but each one seemed more superficial than the last.

So he just held him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You look like hell, man. Not get much sleep?"

Dash looked up from the highly caffeinated beverage the waitress had just sat down in front of him, eyes half-closed. He _could_ tell Edwud that he'd spent much of the night spooning his older cousin until he finally settled down enough to fall asleep, but he decided that would make for a rather awkward discussion topic.

"It was a long night."

Edwud took a sip from his own recently-acquired drink, the ice in it clinking together. "Problems at home? Or problems at _home_?" He reached over the table to knock lightly on Dash's head.

Dash sighed, his shoulders slumping a bit. Beneath the table, his stomach was growling unceremoniously. "A little of both, actually."

Edwud cocked an eyebrow.

"Not really in the mood to talk about it, though... I'm trying to put it out of my head enough that I can at least get through the day."

"I see."

The silence that followed might have been awkward were Dash actually totally coherent. As it was, he was gazing listlessly off into the space in front of him, not even paying attention to his friend.

"Here ya go, boys: one chicken fettuccine and one Cajun steak tips." The waitress was back, placing the food in front of their respective owners. "Enjoy ya meal."

Neither one of them touched the food for a moment. Edwud seemed to need some kind of sign from Dash that it was ok to eat. Once the latter had finally snapped out of his half-trance, glancing down at the steaming food in front of him, Edwud took the opportunity to dive into his steak.

"So, Dash..." The awkwardness was apparently gone now that their meals were here, though part of that could have been because Edwud's mouth was completely full while he talked. "...where you takin' Amy for that dinner tonight?"

Dash was picking at his noodles, though his eyes widened a bit at his friend's comment. "Cripes, that's tonight, isn't it?"

Edwud almost choked on a mushroom. "You forgot about your dinner?"

"I... I didn't... _forget _about it. I just didn't realize what day... it was..." Dash cringed.

"I figured you woulda been countin' down the _hours_, practically. Holy hell, Dash, you really _are _out of it."

Dash brought a forkful of food to his mouth, chewing purposefully. He had to admit, it tasted really good, and the heat from it was waking him up slightly. "Ll'probably take her to like... Scarvanni's or something... nothing _too_ fancy, but still pretty nice. Don't want her to feel like I'm rushing things... or something..."

Edwud nodded, returning to his own food. "Probably a good idea. Also nice to keep things in budget, eh?"

"_That's_ for sure..." Dash turned his eyes skyward. "Especially considering the new TV I have to buy now..."

They ate silently for another moment or two, both of them taking drinks from their respective glasses.

"What _are_ you gonna do about Andrew while you're gone?"

Dash merely shrugged. "Wasn't plannin' on doin' anything. He's alone all day anyway, what it's gonna hurt him to be alone a little longer?"

"You're not worried about him ruining something else?"

"He makes just as much of a ruckus when I'm there as when I'm not... I don't think it's gonna make a huge difference."

Edwud kept watching him for a few more seconds, his mouth full as he chewed a rather large portion of his food.

"Dash, how long are you gonna keep 'im?"

Dash's eyebrows furrowed slightly from his position above his plate, a stray noodle still hanging from his mouth. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, how long are you gonna _keep 'im_?"

He sat back up, finally, wiping his mouth off with a napkin. "You make him sound like he's a pet or something."

"Well, you can't keep him forever."

He didn't say anything, eyes now fixated on his glass.

"Eventually you're gonna have to do _something_ with him... whether it be kicking him out to find his own place or sending him to a psych ward." Edwud brought a hand up to scratch the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not sending my cousin to a psych ward!"

Edwud raised his hands out defensively. "Hey, hey... I'm not tellin' ya what to do, I'm just sayin' that you're gonna have to do _something_. I mean, he might as _well_ be a pet for all the trouble he's caused you."

Dash's head dropped again. It took him a while before he finally spoke. "He just needs someone to understand him, that's all."

"Yeah, well, in your attempts to understand him, you seem to be losing touch with your_self_."

Dash looked up at him. Looked at him long and hard. As angry as that comment made him feel, he couldn't deny the shaky feeling inside, telling him that he was right.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the time Dash got home, he was feeling slightly better. The caffeine from his pop had kicked in, and the chilly breeze during his walk from the car had also helped to wake him up. He still wouldn't consider himself to be in top form, but he definitely had more of a bounce in his step as he exited the elevator and made his way to the apartment.

Sticking his key into the lock, he turned the handle and stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. Not a bad one, really... in fact, it smelled like someone had been cooking.

Unfortunately, it also _looked_ like someone had been cooking, and they hadn't cleaned up. There was quite the assortment of ingredients and food items spread across the tables and counters, along with a number of things that had been spilled or bumped. The stove-light was on, a pot still sitting on one of the burners. The actual heat didn't appear to be on, though whatever it was inside the pot was obviously not done cooking yet.

Dash wasn't even sure what to think. His kitchen was a mess again, that was for sure.

"_Andrew?_" He couldn't hold back the slight tinge of annoyance in his voice.

There was no answer from his cousin, though Dash wasn't the least bit surprised. He was starting to wonder if he would _ever_ come home from work to a perfectly normal situation.

He left his coat and shoes in the closet, same as always, then meandered his way into the living room. The rest of the apartment seemed perfectly fine, though it was rather dark as not a single light had been turned on.

"Andrew?" He glanced around, finally reaching over to the wall to flip the lightswitch. The living room was quickly bathed in light, revealing nothing that he hadn't seen before, however. "...Andr-"

There was the smallest of whimpers from the bathroom.

Eyebrows furrowing in concern, Dash made his way in that direction, pausing a moment at the door. With a slight hesitation, he finally flipped on the switch in here as well.

Andrew's head spun around to look at him from where he was kneeling on the floor, eyes wet with tears.

"Andrew, what's wrong?" Dash quickly kneeled down beside him, though Andrew was already trying to squirm away. It was then that Dash noticed the small red trail that traveled from the bathroom door to where Andrew was situated. His eyes narrowed in concern. "Cripes, Andrew. What happened?"

Andrew simply shook his head, already trying to turn away from his cousin.

Dash immediately grabbed his shoulder, twisting him around so he could see him better. "Andrew, what ha-"

He was cut short when he saw the mass of toilet paper Andrew had wrapped around his arm. It was soaked, already a dark reddish color.

"I cut myself..."

"Oh God." He took Andrew's arm gently, holding it out so he could see. As gingerly as he could, he began unwrapping the toilet paper, cringing a bit as the blood came off on his hands.

As soon as he got it off, however, he quickly wrapped it back up. It was still bleeding rather profusely, the gash traveling from the palm of his hand to the middle of his forearm. Grabbing the end of the toilet paper still on the holder, he pulled off another long piece, wrapping it over the already soaked mass.

Dash bit down on his lip. Hard. Bringing his arm up, he wiped it across the top of his forehead where a bit of sweat had already begun to develop. He'd never done well with blood, and this was so similar to... to...

He felt a burning sensation in his throat as his last meal threatened to come up. He did his best to force it back down, knowing that he couldn't lose it at a time like this. He had to pull it together.

He got back to his feet, coaxing Andrew up as well. "Come on... come on... we've gotta get you to the hospital."

Though a bit shaky, Andrew was able to support himself fine. He kept himself hunched forward, almost as if ashamed. "I'm sorry... I was trying to make din-"

"It's ok, it's ok." Dash patted him on the back, ushering him out the door. "Just keep walking."

Once they'd made it back to the kitchen, Dash went to the closet and took out both of their coats, draping Andrew's around his shoulders and through his good arm. Shrugging on his own coat, he slid his shoes on just as quickly before placing Andrew's out for him to as well. Luckily, they'd always fit a bit big, so he had no troubles.

Dash rubbed his cousin's back comfortingly before picking his keys up from the counter where he'd left them. "Alright, come on."

The walk back to the car seemed strangely colder than when he'd last been outside, but Dash paid it no heed as the two of them walked through the parking lot. Andrew stayed hunched over, walking slightly behind the other. Dash would constantly glance backwards to make sure he was still coming.

He couldn't help the nervous feeling in his gut as they began driving, turning quickly onto the freeway that would take them downtown. He'd only been to the hospital a few times, surprisingly enough, and he didn't have pleasant memories from any of his visits. That being said, he found it almost impossible to slow his heartrate as it beat loudly in his chest.

Andrew stayed perfectly quiet. It was actually a bit eerie. There were a few tears that had fallen down his cheeks, but other than that, nothing. His head stayed down, tucking into the top of his coat.

"I'm sorry..."

"Andrew, it's ok." His fingers were clenched a tad bit too tight around the steering wheel, causing his hands to hurt.

Once they'd made it downtown, it didn't take long to get to the hospital. Dash pulled up under the Emergency Room awning, exiting the car quickly and making his way to the other side. Pulling open the door, he held his hand out for Andrew to take, which he did almost nervously. Dash felt his cousin's fingers intertwine with his own, and for the first time since he'd gone home, he felt slightly more at ease.

He pulled him briskly through the doors.

They had to wait about ten minutes, which annoyed Dash to no end. They sat in one of the corners, Andrew still bent over as he stared at the ground. Dash rubbed his back silently, his eyes wandering around at the other people also waiting.

Just a short ways off was a family of robins: a small child sitting with his parents. He was wrapped in a blanket and would give off a horrendous sounding cough every couple of minutes. Near them was a elderly crocodile sitting in a wheelchair. He was reading a magazine entitled 'Baby and Me', which Dash thought was a rather odd choice.

When the nurse finally came out to collect Andrew, Dash gave a small sigh of relief. He pushed him gently to get him to stand up before following suit, both of them walking after the nurse as she led them through the swinging doors. Andrew's hand wordlessly found Dash's again.

The room they were led to smelled sterile and clean. Dash hated it immediately. A number of other nurses soon entered as well, Andrew placed on the bed in the middle. Not quite knowing what to do, Dash finally sat in one of the chairs off to the side, hoping that he was out of the way. His stomach was beginning to gurgle again.

He tried to make himself watch as they began asking him questions, removing the bandage and cleaning his arm while still trying to keep the bleeding down. It wasn't until one of the nurses brought out a needle that he had to turn away. He couldn't watch this. He could already feel his food threatening to come up his throat again.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, head down as he stared at the ground. He should have stayed in the waiting room. Seeing Andrew's arm with that giant slice in it made his own arm ache, and he desperately wanted to pull it into him, clutch it against his chest to make sure it was alright.

In his mind he kept seeing flashes of similarly sliced arms, and he could feel tears threatening to well up in his eyes. How old had he been? Eight? Nine? He'd done so well in trying to block it from his memory that he could barely even remember how long ago it had been. His father told him he hadn't even cried, just stood there and stared.

Stared at her.

He shook his head, trying to clear it once more. In doing so, he caught of flash of the needle now deep in Andrew's arm. Needless to say, he jerked away as fast as he could, almost all the color drained from his face. It suddenly felt quite cold, his hands clammy in his pockets and a few beads of sweat falling down his forehead. The lights seemed much brighter, glaring so forcefully from the ceiling that it made his head spin.

He tried to slow his breathing, calm himself down, but it wasn't working very well. He was beginning to see dots, little silvery pinpricks dancing across his eyes. By this time, he knew that there wasn't much he could do, so he finally just let himself go, slumping back in the chair as everything went dark.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He awoke to find himself on an unfamiliar bed, completely forgetting where he was or what had happened for a moment. He sat up quickly, a damp cloth that had been on top of his head falling into his lap as he did so. The room was rather dark, the only light coming from the window, where the sun was halfway through its downward descent towards the horizon.

As he glanced around, things began coming back. He remembered going home, remembered finding Andrew... he shook his head a few times. Yes, they were at the hospital now. Apparently, he'd blacked out.

Surprise, surprise.

With a little sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. They hadn't even unmade it, just laid him down on top. He mentally thanked them for at least getting him into a more comfortable spot, as he could only imagine the crick in his neck he'd have gotten from having stayed in that chair. The only problem now was finding his way back to Andrew's room.

Running his hand through his hair in an attempt to unflatten it, he pushed himself off the bed and began making his way for the door. The light in the hallway was almost blinding as soon as he opened it, and he let himself have a few seconds to readjust before he even attempted stepping out of the room.

Thankfully, the hallway wasn't too busy. An occasional nurse walked past him, carrying a clipboard or pushing a dolly. He rubbed his eyes as he glanced at each door he passed. None of this looked entirely familiar... he wondered how far away they'd taken him.

Finally fed up with simply walking around aimlessly, he caught one of the nurses and asked for help in finding his cousin's room. The nurse, whose name appeared to be Sandra, from her nametag, had no idea, though she did ask another nearby nurse who did. The room turned out to be only two doors over, which made Dash feel more than a bit stupid.

The lights were all on when he stepped inside, though there weren't any nurses or doctors left. Andrew was lying on the bed, eyes focused towards the ceiling. His gaze changed towards Dash quickly, though, as he stepped closer to his bed.

"Hey."

Andrew bit his lip, not letting his eyes stay locked for long. "Hi."

Dash took a step around the bed this time, noticing a chair not too far away. "Looks like they got you all fixed up." He pulled the chair across the floor until it was situated at Andrew's side.

"Yeah."

There was a soft whump of air as he sat down on the cushion. "Not too bad then, huh?"

Andrew shook his head. "They said I missed the main artery, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been."

"That's good."

Andrew's eyes were focused on the wall now, not even looking at Dash. His arm was wrapped in a heavy gauze.

"I'm sorry." His voice shook a bit as the words came out.

"Andrew, really... it's ok."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyebrows furrowed a bit. "I was trying to make dinner."

"Yeah, I saw that." Dash didn't have the heart to tell him that he wouldn't even have been around for dinner – he was going out... with...

"Holy crap, Amy!" He was out of his chair with a start, causing Andrew to jerk his head around in surprise. "Dammit, dammit... what time is it...?" His hand was in his pocket now, searching for his phone. When he finally found it, he pulled it out with such a flourish it almost flew out of his hands. Once he was finally holding it securely, he flicked it open.

8:24

"_Dammit!_" He slapped his forehead with his hand, eyes skyward. His heart had practically dropped in his chest, nerves shot. "Dammit..." He gave the floor a pronounced kick as he finally brought his head back down. Running a hand through his hair once more, he simply stood there, other hand on his hip as he gazed towards the ground.

How could he have forgotten? How could he have...

He flicked open his phone, quickly thumbing through his contacts until he reached the number he entered just the other day. He lingered over the send button for a few seconds before he finally pushed it down, knowing there was no way out of this. He chewed on his lip as he waited, each ring seeming to stab guiltily into his head.

_Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up..._

"Hello?"

His eyes opened wide, breath suddenly caught in his throat. "A... Amy!"

"Yes, this is she. Who is this?"

"It's... it's Dash. Dash Bowman."

"Oh! ...Dash..."

"Amy, Amy, listen, I... I am _so. Sorry. _I..."

"No, it's ok. I unde-"

"Amy! Amy, my... my cousin's in the hospital, he... he hurt himself..."

"Oh no, that's horrible! Is he alright?"

He paused for a moment, glancing up at Andrew. "Yeah, yeah, he's fine... thankfully wasn't anything too serious, but... I had to take him here... I just totally forgot. I didn't even think to call, but I am _so sorry..._"

"No, no, really, that's alright, Dash. I definitely understand. That would probably be the last thing on my mind too if I was in that situation."

Dash gave out a sigh of relief, hand to his chest. He took a few moments to recompose himself. "I still... I still really wanna go out with you... sometime..."

"Y-yeah... me too."

"Maybe..." Dash scratched the back of his neck. "..._maybeee_... hey, I know. Why don't you come over to my apartment on Monday night, and I'll make you dinner or something..."

"Monday night?"

"Yeah." Dash mentally crossed his fingers.

"...I think that should work. Yeah, I'd love that!"

He couldn't keep the grin off his face. "Great! That's great! You wanna just go at the same time then? 6:00?"

"Sure, that would work."

"I can give you directions at work on Monday. Really easy to find, trust me."

"Oh, ok. Right."

"Alright, then... Monday. I'll see you Monday. And again, I am so sorry!"

"No, no, really, it's fine! Have a good weekend!"

"You too, Amy."

And then the line was dead. Dash was still for a moment before clicking the phone shut, letting himself fall back down into his chair. Holding his head in his hands, he just stared at the floor for a few minutes, the rise and fall of his shoulders his only movement. It took a while for his adrenaline to finally recede, leaving him feeling almost exhausted.

Andrew hadn't said a thing since he'd got on the phone, simply watching him from his position on the bed. He continued to now, both of them perfectly still in the quiet room.

"I'm sorry."

Dash didn't say anything in return this time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The weekend seemed to go by at a snail's pace. Nothing Dash did seemed enjoyable or invigorating at all. Without a TV, he couldn't even just sit down and watch the news or a ball game or anything. It made him feel weirdly out of touch, and he didn't like it.

Andrew had been released from the hospital that same night, his arm having gotten stitched up without much trouble. Dash had been given instructions on how to clean it every night, though, which _did_ supply some difficulty as just looking at it made him feel slightly ill.

He'd gotten past the first two nights without a hitch, however. So far, so good.

By the time Sunday night came around, Dash was practically going stir-crazy. He felt guilty leaving the house for extended periods of time while Andrew stayed home, so he only left for short errands, the rest of his time spent doing nothing except sitting around. Andrew was talking even _less_ than he had before, sleeping most of the time or sitting out on the balcony.

Dash wondered how he did it. How he could last that long without any sort of movement or social contact. It both intrigued and irked him off.

Needless to say, Dash and Andrew didn't talk much.

When Monday morning finally came, Dash couldn't get to work fast enough. His usual irritated feelings towards his place of employment somehow vanished into thin air, leaving behind that glorious feeling of actually having a conversation with someone. In fact, upon seeing Edwud sitting at his desk when he arrived, he could easily have kissed him out of happiness. He decided, however, that it probably wouldn't be appreciated.

Edwud was strangely quiet, giving him an odd grin as he simply watched him slide off his coat and sit down at his desk. After he'd clicked his computer on, Dash turned to face him, now more than slightly put-off.

"Soooo... how'd it go on Friday?"

Oh yes, he should have seen this coming.

"Er, well..."

Edwud's face fell. "Aw, don't tell me... you blew it already? I had _faith_ in you, Dash."

Dash waved his hands in front of his face. "No, no, nothing like that... you see..."

"Did she give you the 'we should just be friends' speech?"

"We didn't even have the dinner."

Edwud was speechless for a moment. "Wai-wai-wai-_wait_. _What?_"

"There was... a bit of a predicament... Friday night..."

"No, don't tell me."

"Andrew hurt himself."

Edwud leaned forward on the desk. "_He tried to kill himself?_"

Dash immediately jerked back, a shocked expression on his face. "_What?_ No! No, no, not at all."

"Oh."

He didn't like the tone of Edwud's voice, but he kept going anyway. "He was... cooking. Trying to cook or something... I never asked him what exactly he was doing, but anyway, he cut himself..." He pointed towards his left hand, running a finger from it down his arm. "...all down here."

"Yikes, that's gotta hurt."

"So yeah, I took him to the hospital... by the time the doctors were through it was almost 8:30." The computer beeped next to him, and Dash turned to enter his login info.

"Sounds like an exciting weekend, then. I assume you called Amy?"

"Oh yeah, yeah. We're getting together tonight – gonna cook her something at the apartment."

"Sounds romantic."

Dash narrowed his eyes, glaring at Edwud. "Are you _trying_ to annoy me?"

Edwud backed off defensively. "Hey, I was being serious. Get some candles, some romantic music playing... that's the way to go, I'm tellin' ya. Just don't let Destructo-Boy ruin it for ya."

Dash chewed on his bottom lip. "Yeah..." He still wasn't sure how the whole Andrew thing was gonna work. If he told him to stay in his room, he probably would. Hell, he spent most of his time out on that balcony anyway. Shouldn't be much of a problem. And hey, Amy seemed rather interesting in meeting him as it was, so it might even work out for the better. "It should be fine."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dash couldn't help but feel nervous as he turned the key to his apartment. He wasn't sure what it was from – probably a combination of fear for tonight's dinner and fear for whether or not Andrew would cooperate tonight. Unfortunately for him, that nervousness disappeared entirely as he opened the door, replaced by a much worse feeling.

His apartment was yellow. _Yellow_.

He simply stopped and stared, eyes wide as he tried to comprehend exactly what was going on. Once he'd finally recovered enough to shake his head free, he stepped wordlessly into the kitchen, mouth agape.

_Yellow_.

Everything was covered in sticky notes. Hundreds of sticky notes. Thousands of sticky notes. His fridge was lined with them. The table was covered with them. Even the coffee pot had been attacked.

Everything was covered.

Dash walked further into the kitchen, seeing a similar sight in the living room just ahead. The blinds had sticky notes attached to each bar, the couch had sticky notes around each cushion... Dash didn't even have any words. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could even _think_.

Some of the notes had writing on them, though it was written so sloppily he couldn't make out what the words were for the life of him. Some of them had scribbled drawings. Most of them, though, were just blank. Empty.

And _everywhere_.

"...A... Andrew...?"

He made his way through the living room, trying to avoid the patches of notes that had either fallen to the floor or had been placed there purposefully. The light was on in his bedroom, so that became his destination. Popping his head inside, he saw Andrew lying asleep on his bed, surrounded by more of the sticky notes. Unusued pads littered the floor around him.

"Andrew!"

He could feel it inside him, the anger starting to build again. He didn't even care this time, though – he'd had enough.

"Andrew, get up!"

His cousin shifted slightly on the bed before opening his eyes. As soon as he saw Dash, he pushed himself to a sitting position, blinking in surprise.

"Andrew, what the _hell_ is this?" Dash was all the way inside the room now, still clad in his forgotten coat and shoes.

Andrew glanced around, taking everything into account. Chewing on his lower lip, he appeared to be in great thought. Finally, he simply looked back up at Dash, shrugging his shoulders.

"You don't _know_?" Dash's voice was almost at a yelling volume already, arms spread in complete disbelief.

Andrew shrunk back slightly on the bed, wincing. "I... didn't wanna forget..."

Dash was stupefied for a second, standing there with his mouth open and hands splayed out in front of him. "I... you... you don't want to _forget_? Forget what? That you've completely trashed my apartment? _Multiple times?_"

He was down on the floor now, hands pushing the piles of unused pads aside as he gazed around in shock. "Where... where did you even get all these anyway? How...?"

Andrew didn't respond, simply shooting a worried glance down at him while idly rubbing the bandange on his arm.

"Where did you get these?" Dash stood up, eyes boring into his cousin's.

Andrew immediately dropped his head, staring down at the note-covered comforter. "The store... down the street."

Dash glanced towards the window as though he could actually see the store through the blinds. "Alright... simple enough..." He was trying to calm himself down, keep himself from going off. "Where did you get the money?"

Andrew winced again, and Dash couldn't help the sinking feeling he got in his gut. Hesitantly, he reached into his back pocket and produced a small card, holding it up for Dash to see.

"Are you trying... to tell me... you stole my credit card... and used it to buy hundreds of _sticky notes_?"

Andrew instinctively dropped the card, skirting back to the wall.

"Are you fucking _insane? _I... I can't believe this... can't comprehend this..." Dash sunk to his knees, staring down at his hands. "Why...? You...? This is..."

When Dash didn't do anything else, Andrew crept forward a bit on the bed, glancing nervously at him. Ever so slightly, he reached his arm out to place it on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed.

Dash whipped his arm out almost instantly, slapping Andrew's away. His teeth were clenched as he finally brought his head back up to look at him.

"Get away from me."

Andrew slunk backwards.

"Get... _away from me!_" It came out as a scream this time, Dash hands curled up into fists. "I can't deal with you anymore! I can't handle this! I can't-" He cut himself off with a frustrated groan, hands now grasping the sides of his head.

And then it was quiet again. Deathly quiet. The only movement in the room was the rise and fall of Dash's shoulders as they shook silently.

So Andrew left. He got up from the bed, and he left. Dash didn't even watch him go, now sunk down into his own little world of misery as he let his frustrations out.


	3. Part 3

The part in which many weird things happen.

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The Rehabilitation of Andrew Oikonny

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Part 3

_Riiiiiing_

_Riiiiiing_

The tone echoed in Dash's ear as he sat in the darkness, completely still. The room around him was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, shadows from the bedroom light cascading across the mass of yellow that surrounded him.

He didn't mind the darkness anymore.

_Riiiiiing_

He closed his eyes, bringing a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. It sounded so empty and dull... lifeless, almost.

The next ring was abruptly cut off with a click.

"Hello?"

"...hey, Amy."

"Oh, Dash! Hey, how are you?"

"Oh, just fine."

"I'm, uh... I'm getting ready... is there something you needed to talk about?" He could tell she sounded slightly nervous.

Dash sighed. "Well, it's just this... my house is off for tonight. Er... unfortunate circumstances..."

"Unfortunate circumstances...?"

"Let's just say, it's a complete mess right now..."

"Oh, I see." Her voice fell a bit. "So..."

"I'm not saying it's all off for tonight, just that... well, we'll have to rethink the venue."

"Ohhh, oh, I see. Well, that's fine – I don't mind!"

"Good, good... yeah, um..." He brought a hand to his hand, massaging his temple. "Restaurant... something like that? Hey, what about the Green Briar?"

"I've never eaten there before!"

"It's good, it's good... definitely."

"Well, that sounds great then – still same time?"

"Yeah, six should still work. Wanna just meet there?"

"Sure, sure."

"Great... well, alright, I've gotta get ready now."

"Yeah, me too."

"I'll see you in a little bit!"

"Bye, Dash."

"Bye."

And then the phone was dead again, and with it, the only source of life in the room. Dash slumped his head back into the couch where he was sitting, eyes closed.

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Andrew was only outside for a few minutes before he knew where to go. He wrapped his arms across his chest, being careful of his bandage, then trumped off through the snow that was once more littering the sidewalks. It was already fairly dark outside, the sun only half-visible on the horizon, but he continued to walk, trying not to pay it any heed.

The streetlamps had come on above his head, seeming to travel on into oblivion as they stretched into the downtown area. That was not, however, the direction he was headed, so he turned to jog quickly across the street, being mindful of cars.

There was a small park which he went through without slowing. It obviously hadn't been used in a month or two, everything looking deathly still. The entire area was rather haunting as the dim moonlight reflected off the snow. He kept walking, entering an area which was slightly more wooded.

It was considerably darker here, and he couldn't fight the fear that kept gripping him as his shoes crunched into the snow below him. By the time he'd made it to the other side of the woods, the sun was completely below the horizon, only its faint remnants of light still visible in the sky above.

The sidewalk he popped out onto was situated right next to a rather winding road. Were he more familiar with the area, he would have known that it was the main road leading from downtown Corneria City to the freeway, but as it was, all he knew was that he needed to keep heading towards the lights. He could remember it as a picture in his head, the buildings of downtown on the right, and the small, lit area next to it on the left. That's where he had to go.

So he crossed the street and continued on into the snowy area on the other side. His hands were freezing by now, so he tried sticking them in his pockets to warm them up. It didn't seem to help much, though. He could feel the icy chill as it sent tiny pinpricks of pain up through his stitches.

His walking slowed slightly as he proceeded. The cold was enveloping him now, but he knew he had to keep going. He walked through another small, wooded area, this one not quite as dark as the last one. When he came out on the other side, he was relieved to see a few buildings and what looked like a residential road. A few streetlamps provided him light once more as he gratefully stepped out of the snow and onto the sidewalk.

His journey became considerably easier without the half-foot of snow hindering his path. As he walked, he traveled past more and more houses, which relieved him to no end. The only problem now would be figuring out exactly which street would take him to where he needed to go, since he could no longer compare the picture in his mind to what he saw.

On instinct, he veered off to the left. He passed a few people, none of them paying him any heed as most were simply getting out of their cars or shoveling the walk. He couldn't feel his hands or ears anymore. It was making his head hurt.

He knew that he was going the right way as the houses became more and more decrepit. They no longer had driveways, just small paths leading up to their front doors, and yards had disappeared too, as they were far too close to each other to warrant one. When the sidewalk eventually disappeared altogether, Andrew knew he had to be close. He was forced to step out into the narrow street, glancing around him as he eyed the surrounding buildings.

There were less streetlights now, but the ones that _were_ there seemed strangely brighter, casting long shadows down the alleyways. As he looked up at one, he noticed the tiniest of snowflakes beginning to fall from the sky, intermingling with the cloud of hot air that blew from his mouth with each breath.

He could hear the faintest sound of music playing from somewhere, so he headed off in that direction, darting through an incredibly narrow passage between two nearby buildings. There was less snow on the ground here, having been stopped by the assortment of tarps and awnings that were jutting out from some of the buildings.

When he would walk by alleyways, he thought he could see people standing in them, staring out from them, but he wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not. He even came by a group of people sitting around a fire. It had been made in an old gas drum. The heat felt wonderful as he walked past, though he wasn't sure how welcome he would be, so he walked on.

The music was louder now. Some kind of jazzy number echoing out across the frozen pathways. He could see light coming through a few windows up ahead, the snow glowing a bright gold where it was cast. He instinctively wrapped his coat tighter around himself, pausing for a moment before letting his feet carry him to the front door of the building.

He was suddenly unsure. Suddenly scared. But he had nowhere else to go now. Nowhere else that would accept him.

Besides, he was sick of the whiny, scared brat he'd become. If the world wasn't going to accept him, then he wasn't going to accept the world.

Wrapping his hand around the door handle, he pushed it open and stepped inside.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"This is a really nice place."

Dash looked up from the glass of wine he'd just set down. "Yeah, I've been here a few times... really good food, too."

Amy sat across from him with her legs crossed. She was wearing a rather elegant-looking green top with a long skirt. Dash thought she looked pretty nice.

"I hope so! I'm so hungry already... I didn't have much for lunch." She was glancing around, obviously slightly nervous. She reminded Dash of a young child.

The atmosphere of the restaurant was a bit dark and secluded, all of the lights turned down low and the walls and floor a deep green color. The last time Dash had been here was when he went on a blind date with a girl named Patsy during his military years. Needless to say, she hadn't been all that impressive.

Dash took another sip from his wine.

"So... what... exactly happened... to your apartment?" Almost as soon as she said it, she ducked her head, bringing a hand to her mouth. "I mean, I don't want to pry or anything."

Dash had his fingers crossed over his stomach, leaning back slightly. "No, it's no big deal, really... uh... it's just Andrew. He makes a mess sometimes." That sinking feeling was back, creeping up from his stomach to his chest.

"Oh... really? He must be hard to deal with."

Dash shook his head. "No... it's... it's not too bad."

Amy watched him for a few seconds, as if waiting for more. When he didn't say anything else, she brought a hand up to scratch at her neck idly. "So... I guess... here we are! What, uh... I mean, you have any big plans... for this week?"

Dash looked up as if realizing where he was again. He looked lost for a moment before his brain registered the question. "Er, no, not really... normal work week."

"Have things been pretty hectic down in your department?"

"More like slow as a turtle." He let out a small chuckle, though his heart wasn't really into it.

"Ah... we've been getting a lot of calls lately. Mainly citizens with questions... it gets a bit tedious."

"I can imagine."

They both sat in silence, Dash staring down at his hands and Amy resting her chin on her fist. An unnerving tension seemed to be hanging in the air. Just when Amy was really starting to feel uncomfortable, the waiter came by with a basket of bread, placing it on their table with a smile.

She clapped her hands together softly, leaning forward. "Oh yay! I'm starving!" She let a smile spread across her face as she looked up towards Dash. It was that unspoken signal again. When Dash moved to grab a piece himself, she finally let herself indulge as well.

The bread was delicious, and both of them remained silent as they chewed on their respective pieces, staring down at the basket. Amy was the first one to finish her slice.

"Ah... I, I know this might seem... personal, but, uh... what, what's it like..."

Dash looked up at her, mouth still stuffed with bread.

"What's it like... being the grandson of... of... well, you know...?" She ducked her head down again, already ashamed of her question.

The last bit of bread got stuck in his throat, causing him to cough rather abruptly. He pounded his hand against his chest to try and relieve himself, though it still took a few moments.

This only made Amy more uncomfortable. "I'm... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that."

Dash wheezed once, finally able to breathe normally again. He wiped at the slight moisture that had formed around his eyes. "I, uh... I, uh..."

"No, no, it was completely out of line. I apologize. I shouldn't even have brought it up, it's just... just... ever since my father..."

Dash still hadn't said anything, now just gazing across the table at her. He suddenly felt very cold, his heart seeming to freeze in his chest. His hands were gripping his knees tightly, though he couldn't feel the pain if there was any.

Amy finally looked back up at him, though her eyes kept darting away.

"It's... it's fine..." There was a crack in his voice. Why was he getting like this? He'd gone through this before, gone through the times when he was forced to accept his lineage. Gone through the times when he'd finally been able to separate himself as his own person, his own life and choices.

So why was that feeling coming back? That inescapable feeling of guilt? Of shame?

Of fear?

"...Dash? Are you alright?" Amy's eyes were filled with worry. "Please, let's just forget I even asked it, ok? Let's talk about something else."

Dash looked down at his hands, holding them up slightly as he opened and closed them. He could still feel the fabric of Andrew's shirt between his fingers. Could still see those lifeless eyes staring back at him from the floor. Could still hear the voice biting out from his throat as he screamed in anger.

Oh God. What had he done?

He was no better than his grandfather. He... he...

He brought his hands to his chest, grasping the fabric of his shirt. Was he really...? There was no escaping it. He'd tried to run away, and yet here it was, just the same as it had been before. He was so afraid, and yet he couldn't stop thinking about it. Leaving the military had done nothing. It was still in his blood. He couldn't run away.

He abruptly pushed himself away from the table. "I... I have to go."

"W-what? Dash? I... I'm so sorry, I didn't..."

Dash shook his head, already to his feet. "It's not you." He took a few steps backwards, eyes still unfocused as they stared straight ahead.

"Please, don't..." Amy was half-way out of her own seat, hand extended.

But Dash took off, walking swiftly past the tables in the restaurant until he made it to the door. He didn't even take the time to grab his coat, simply walking out into the cold, night air and to his car. His head was screaming so much he could barely get a coherent thought out. He felt like he'd been pumped with a hundred shots of adrenaline.

It had just started to snow when he reached his car, turning on the ignition with a flick of his wrist. He peeled out of the parking lot, barely even bothering to look. He was quite fortunate in that the streets were practically dead as he made his way home, his hands clenched to the wheel.

Back in the parking lot of his apartment complex, he slammed the car door shut as he stepped out. The snow crunched under his feet as he half-walked, half-jogged back inside. His heart was beating so loudly he thought he would go deaf. He wanted to bring his hands to his head, block the invading sound, but he simply kept going.

The elevator seemed to take forever as it slowly ascended to his floor. The walls of it seemed to close in on him, forming a cage around him as he closed his eyes. When the doors finally opened, he practically burst out of it, nervousness flooding through him as his eyes found his apartment door.

There was no one there.

Not that he'd expected anyone to be there. His face fell, and he had to stop for a moment, just staring at it. Walking forward slowly, he stuck his key in the lock, twisting it open as a hitch formed in his throat.

The lights were still off. Everything was dark. There was no one there. He gazed around half-heartedly, biting his lip. It was deathly quiet.

He made his way forward through the kitchen, not even bothering to turn on the lights. His feet continually brushed passed a few stray sticky notes that had fallen off onto the floor. He hadn't even tried to clean up earlier.

The moon was shining in through the window, casting the only light into the room. Normally, he would probably have been freaking out by now, not knowing what could be lying in wait for him in the darkness. It was the sort of feeling that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But now, that same fear seemed to be associated with turning _on_ the lights. He didn't want to see what was there. He didn't want to see what was really inside of him.

He didn't want to accept it.

He let himself fall down on the couch, the feeling of paper bending and curling beneath him. He wondered if this was how his mother felt. He'd been so young then that he couldn't understand. Couldn't comprehend it. His dad had told him that "mommy was just having some problems", but he knew that wasn't it. He'd heard her... heard her frightened voice as it tried to fight against the other voice in her head.

She could hear _him_. She could hear _him_ calling out to her, beckoning her... and she couldn't take it anymore.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The bar was busier than Andrew thought it would be, especially given the cold weather outside. Then again, it did feel considerably warmer inside, even without an actual furnace keeping it heated. That was probably the explanation for many of its clients' attendance.

He glanced around, not really sure where to go at first. The bar itself was practically full, a number of dejected-looking bums drowning away their sorrows in large mugs. A group of people to his left were enjoying a game a darts, the intensity of their throws making him slightly nervous. About half of the tables scattered around the rest of the bar were full as well, a wide assortment of people talking and drinking.

And smoking, too. The air was full of smoke.

Andrew gave a small cough as he walked forward, hanging his coat up on a decrepit-looking rack a short ways away. There were so many coats already hanging there, he was surprised it hadn't completely given way.

Walking tentatively out into the rest of the bar, he glanced around, obviously searching. He couldn't help but feel a bit awkward, and a number of people were giving him strange glances, but he kept going all the same. His eyes widened as he looked towards the back corner, relief flooding through him.

He'd found them.

The green reptile sitting at the table saw him almost immediately, slowly raising his head from the beer he was drinking in disbelief. This caused the others to look up as well, some turning in their seats or shifting their positions to see better.

Andrew walked to the table, hands on his hips as his expression hardened. His sense of authority was already beginning to run through him once more, and it felt good. It felt familiar. He was _someone_ again.

"Well, isn't this a surprise. Our high and mighty chieftain come back from the dead." The beer was forgotten.

Andrew glanced down at each of them in turn, glaring. "And what's this? You're all just sitting around, drinking your time away and letting the fleet fall apart? My uncle would be ashamed!"

The reptile stood up from the table, obviously the non-disputed leader of the group. "You're one to talk. If you're still alive, why didn't you come back sooner?"

"I didn't come back, _Caiman_, because I was in _jail!_"

There were a few snickers around the table.

Caiman simply crossed his arms, a sneer stretching across his face. "Ah, I see. And I figured you were too _smart_ to end up somewhere like that. Who was it that was always boasting about the intelligence he inherited from his uncle? Where's it gone now, Andrew?"

Andrew jerked back slightly, clenching his teeth. "Well, it does become a bit difficult when the rest of your fleet does _nothing_ to help you. Sometimes, I wonder whose side you were really on!" He couldn't help it now. His mouth was running off like so many of the times it did back during the war.

Caiman threw on a look of fake shock. "Oh, Andrew, that hurts. Truly." More snickers from the table. "You're _almost_ making me hate you again. Oh wait, I never _stopped_." At this, the table broke out in laughter.

Something was wrong here. It wasn't supposed to be like this. His troops were supposed to welcome him back with open arms. Praise his home-coming.

"I... I... you can't talk to me like that! I am the nephew of the great Andross, and you'll treat me with respect!" He pointed his outstretched finger at the still-grinning reptile.

"Sorry to break this to you, _Andrew_, but your uncle's gone. Dead. Didn't you get the memo?"

Andrew clenched his teeth together. "Yes, but that makes _me_ in charge... got it? _Me!_ Which means you have to do what I say!"

What was wrong with them? Didn't they understand? He was the nephew of _Andross_. He was their _leader_.

Caiman was up on the table now, slinking his way across. Once he made it to the other side, he plopped down on it, swinging his legs underneath. The two bulkier reptiles already sitting there scooted backwards to make room, almost identical grins on their faces.

"I had just about enough of _that_ while your uncle was still living. And now that big, bad Andross isn't here to make me, I really don't think I have to do _anything_ you say."

His expression scared Andrew. He didn't like it at all. Instinctively leaning backwards, he began stepping away from his former second-in-command.

But was abruptly stopped as he ran into a rather large mass behind him.

He jerked around, eyes wide in surprise. A muscular crocodile was blocking his path, staring down at him with narrow, black eyes. His breath caught in his throat. "Wha... what are you doing?"

"You know, Andrew... I've always _wanted_ to pay you back for the wonderful time we had during the war." Caiman was speaking right in his ear now, which caused him to jump around in surprise once more. He glanced at him fearfully, noticing that most of those who'd been sitting at the table were now getting to their feet as well.

As he took another step backwards to try and get away from the reptile, he was grabbed from behind by the crocodile, arms jerked backwards painfully. He gave a small cry of anguish as he felt the crocodile's fingers dig into his stitches.

"You... you can't _do this!_ You can't..." Andrew tried to squirm free, but this only made it hurt worse. The crocodile took this opportunity to grab his throat and chin with his other hand, forcing him to look straight at Caiman.

"I don't see anyone trying to stop me."

And indeed there wasn't. Most of the others in the bar hadn't even noticed what was going on, and if they had, either paid it no heed or seemed to be enjoying it. This scared Andrew. It scared him a lot.

Caiman walked right up to him, grinning so wide now that Andrew could see the rows of sharp teeth lining his mouth. Abruptly, he moved off to the side, which confused Andrew for a moment until the crocodile began dragging him forward towards the table. He glanced around fearfully at the hungry eyes of everyone surrounding him, still struggling to free himself to no avail.

Panicked tears sprang to his eyes as he was slammed roughly onto the table.

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Dash couldn't sleep. He hadn't even tried to go to his room, all energy seeming to have drained out of him, but for the life of him, he couldn't get himself to fall asleep. He was sprawled out on the couch, still dressed in his nicer clothes, face buried in the cushions.

He couldn't stop _thinking_.

It was eating away at his mind. He brought one of the couch pillows up to cover his head, trying to suffocate his thoughts, but it didn't do anything except make it difficult to breathe. He finally turned over onto his back with a large exhale of air. The ceiling was speckled with dots of light and shadow as the moonlight caught on its tiny grooves.

The silence formed a cage around him. He felt like he couldn't make a noise or it would break, shattering into a million pieces around him. The steady rise and fall of his chest was the only movement as he stared straight ahead.

He had to go to bathroom.

Cringing slightly, he turned his head to the side, trying to will the feeling to go away. He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to break the spell that had fallen over his apartment.

...but he seriously had to go. He got up with a groan, pausing for a moment once he reached a sitting position, legs hanging over the side. When he finally pushed himself to his feet, he let himself simply stand there, feeling the darkness envelope his entire body. It was the strangest feeling, standing there in that dark room. Like he wasn't even in his apartment anymore.

Scratching his armpit tiredly, he began making his way towards the bathroom. When he got inside and realized that he couldn't even make out the _toilet_, he realized he was going to have to turn on a light. Closing his eyes in preparation, he flicked the switch on.

It was horrendously bright. He had to stand there with his eyes closed for another few minutes, refusing to let them open. The slightest bits of moisture had formed around their edges, the glare sending shocks of pain up through his nerves.

Once he'd finally adjusted enough that he could open his eyes at least a crack, he stepped forward hesitantly towards the toilet, already undoing the button on his pants.

It felt heavenly. He sighed in contentment as he sat, leaning his elbows down on his knees. The much-needed relief was already making him feel ten times better.

By the time he was done, he could open his eyes all the way, looking around the bathroom with no trouble. The darkness from the doorway was still calling to him, though, and he longed to be back on the warm couch, blanketed by the moonlight.

He quickly finished up, noting to himself that he was on his last roll of toilet paper, then got to his feet and over to the sink. He couldn't see himself in the mirror as it was still covered in sticky notes, only a spot or two still reflecting back at him. As he washed his hands, he let his eyes travel over them, noticing a few scribbles on some of them. He still couldn't make out what they said, though.

It wasn't until he was drying his hands off with the towel that he noticed it. The bag. Andrew's bag. The same bag he'd been clutching like a lifeline when he'd first gone to pick him up. One of the drawers underneath the counter was slightly ajar, a few sticky notes attached to the inside of it, and through the gap, he could see the bag.

He stopped, suddenly unsure of himself. A chill ran down his spine, making him shiver. After a few more moments, he was bending down, grabbing the bag from the drawer. When he held it in his hands, a wave of guilt seemed to wash over him, and he wanted to put it back. But he didn't. He continued to hold it.

He had to get out of the bathroom, though. Too vulnerable.

Walking back out into the living room, he felt along the side of the wall until he found the lightswitch. He was thankful that his eyes were already adjusted to the light, the room seeming entirely different now that he could see. He wasn't sure if it was a good feeling or a bad feeling.

He returned to his place on the couch, still holding the bag in his hands. It wasn't that large of a bag, more like a small knapsack. It looked a bit beat-up too, definitely having seen better days. The tan cloth was fraying around the edges, and splotches of dirt littered its surface.

He was hesitant at first, fingers twitching, but he finally let himself undo the buckle on the front and let the top flap down. When he reached his hand inside, it wasn't quite what he was expecting.

Fluff. That's the only word he could use to describe it. Fluff. He pulled some of it out. It was stuffing for something... he squeezed it in his hand, watching it spring back out as he released it. He put his hand back inside and pulled out the rest of it, holding a fairly good amount in his hand now. It confused him to no end.

Finally, he just set it aside, peering down through the opening of the bag to see what else there was. Feeling around with his hand, he pulled out the first thing his fingers came in contact with.

A pair of glasses.

He cocked his head to the side. Andrew had never worn glasses... as he looked at them, turning them around in his hand, he narrowed his eyes in concentration. They were rather old-looking, wire-rimmed, lenses more than a bit dusty... the pure absurdity of them left him baffled.

Tentatively, he opened up the frames in his hands, holding them out in front of his face. Now more than a bit intrigued, he brought them closer to his eyes, finally pushing them all the way on.

He sat there for a second, looking around. He expected the room to appear strange and distorted past the lenses, but it was surprisingly clear. Perhaps, even more clear than it had been before.

It hit him like a lightning bolt. His heart racing, he flung the glasses off his face, watching as they fell to the carpet with a soft bounce.

They were his grandfather's glasses.

His heart was echoing in his ears as he tried to calm his breathing. Bringing a hand to his chest, he just sat there and stared at them. His mouth had gone completely dry.

They were Andross' glasses.

He didn't know how he knew, he just _knew_. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He felt violated, his skin tingling where the glasses had been touching him just a second ago. His face felt like it was burning.

When his heartrate finally began to slow, he let his shoulders fall from their rigid position. He wrenched his gaze from the innocent glasses resting on the floor, now looking down at the clenched hands in his lap. He felt like he'd just run a marathon.

Shaking his head, he forced himself to pick the bag back up, trying to clear his mind. He couldn't think about it. He wouldn't let himself. How the glasses had fit perfectly.

He stuffed his hand into the bag almost forcefully, his fingers finding only one other object inside. Eyes narowing, he pulled it out.

It was a photo frame. When he looked at the picture within, he was surprised to see his own face staring back at him, along with the faces of his parents. It was the last family picture they'd had together, back when he was around six. Pausing for a moment, the realization struck him.

This was _his _picture. It was the picture that had been sitting on his bedside table. He hadn't even noticed!

He turned it around in his hands to make sure, but indeed, there was his mother's handwriting on the back, noting the date the picture had been taken. Besides, there was no mistaking the frame.

Apparently, Andrew had snuck off with it sometime in the last couple of days. Dash found it entirely strange that he hadn't noticed its absence.

He looked back down at the picture. It had been a while since he'd really _looked_ at it. It was such a commonplace item in his room that he'd never paid much attention to it anyway. He winced slightly as he looked at himself. His ears looked even _larger_ here... he was surprised his parents hadn't mistaken him for an elephant! Boy, had the kids at school loved to make fun of _those._

His parents looked so happy. He smiled as he looked at his father – he seemed so young compared to how he looked now. The whole ordeal with his mom had aged him horribly, along with taking away much of his vigor. His dad barely did anything now aside from go to work and sit at home watching television.

Dash's smile fell.

He tried to remember what it was like before _it_ happened, but he couldn't anymore. Everything seemed so hazy, so unfocused. He could only remember bits and pieces, images of a life much happier than the one he led now. A life where everything he touched seemed affected by a man long dead.

A man he feared he would become.

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Trudging into work the next day, he felt like he was walking through mud. His legs barely responded, his eyes half-closed... he felt like he was dead on his feet. He didn't even have his nice coat anymore, having to wear his old work jacket. He'd left the other one at the Green Briar.

"Dash, you look like you've died and risen again!"

He didn't even respond, letting his head fall down on his desk. Edwud stood there staring at him for a few moments before bringing his own head down to the desk, resting his cheek on the plastic surface. Dash jerked back when he saw his friend's face right in front of his.

"Another long night?"

Dash rubbed at his eyes lazily. "I don't think I slept at _all_."

Edwud just grinned. "She keep you that occupied, huh?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed out in confusion, trying to figure out what the gecko was implying. The fact that he was barely awake wasn't helping any either. "Wha... wa-wait! No, nothing like that!" He shook his head, hand waving out in front of him.

"Aw, come on, you don't have to be modest with me."

Dash didn't even _want _to get into what had happened last night. He brought his elbows down to the desk, burying his face in his hands. "Edwud, I'm such an idiot."

The tone of Dash's voice was what confused him. The smile fell from his face as he scootched himself up onto the desk. His mouth formed a number of words without actually saying them until he could think of exactly what he wanted to say. "Yooo... what happened, man?"

Dash turned his head upwards, eyes closed. "_Everything_ happened." He ended his proclomation by letting his entire upper body fall back onto the desk.

Edwud brought a hand up, hesitantly placing it on the other's back. "That... doesn't really help much. Everything as in 'holy crap, I can't believe that just happened!' or '_holy shit, I can't believe that just happened_!'?"

Dash didn't move from his position. "My life is fucked up."

"I guess it was the latter, then."

It was silent for a moment, Edwud not exactly sure what his next action should be.

Dash finally brought his head up slightly. "Andrew's gone... Amy probably hates me... my apartment is covered in sticky notes. _Sticky notes!_" He grabbed the front of Edwud's shirt as he said this, looking up at him helplessly.

Edwud, in turn, leaned back with a wince. For once in his life, he couldn't think of anything to say.

"Edwud, I don't know what to do anymore. I can't handle this..."

"Dash... man..."

Dash let himself slide down until he was resting his forehead on the other's knee. "Can't you make everything just go away...?"

Edwud brought his hand up to rest on Dash's shoulder uncertainly. "Maybe... you should see someone... or something..."

He didn't even raise his head. "I'm not crazy, Edwud."

Edwud simply sighed, chewing on his lip awkwardly.

"Well, my, my! I didn't know it was Valentine's Day! I'd appreciate it if you boys would keep that sort of activity to a more private place, however."

Jerking around, Edwud immediately cringed, hands clenched "Ah! Uh, Mr. Gualtier! It's not... not what it looks like..." He pushed on Dash's head, trying to get him back into a sitting position. "_Dash, sit _up!"

"You know, I'm not really one to condone workplace relationships... They tend to be more of a distraction than I like." The eagle was scratching his chin as if deep in thought.

Dash, in turn, was barely keeping his head up, eyes half-closed. A nervous smile had spread across Edwud's face as he slid down from the desk. "M-Mr. Gualtier, I-"

"Es_pecially_ when other people around the office catch wind of such actions, which they _will_ if you do not _get back to your cubicle now!_"

Edwud took the hint immediately, scurrying off before the eagle could so much as inhale. When he was completely out of sight, the department head made his way over to the desk where Dash was still barely keeping himself awake.

"And Mr. Bowman... I suggest you take some time off. As much as I hate to admit it, our scaly friend was right – you do look rather awful. Take a break for a while. I don't even re_member _the last time you took any vacation days."

Dash looked up at him through strained eyes. "I'll... get right on that, Mr. Gualtier."

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Coming home from work, Dash didn't feel much better. He didn't even turn the radio on in the car, which is what usually picked him up after a long day. He rode in complete silence, the sound of the engine especially pronounced in his ears.

He wasn't looking forward to coming home to an empty apartment. He'd gotten used to the comfort of knowing someone was there. True, he never knew what kind of weird-ass shit had happened to his apartment while he was gone, but at least he wasn't alone.

He was starting to wonder if he was destined to spend his life alone.

Pulling into the parking lot, he found a spot with relative ease, taking a moment as the engine died down before stepping out of the car. The snow from last night hadn't accumulated much, thankfully, so the sidewalks and roads were still fairly clear. More like a light dusting, actually.

The sky was littered with overhanging clouds, making the air around him seem dismal and gloomy. The snow wasn't even pretty anymore – all dirty and gray, turning into gravely slush on the pavement. The entire atmosphere did little to help his mood.

He kept his hands in his pockets and head down as he made his way up in the elevator. The carpet below him was sopping wet from the multitudes of snowy shoes that had frequented it already that day. It squelched noisily beneath his feet.

When he stepped out, he began walking without even looking, not raising his head until he was a few feet from his door. This caused him to be all the more surprised when he saw his cousin sitting in front of it, shoulders hunched forward and knees pulled into his chest.

He didn't even say anything, just stood there and stared. Andrew looked up at his approach, cheeks streaked with tears. His clothes looked torn and ratty, dried blood caking his arm where the stitches were. He was visibly shaking.

"...Andrew...?"

It was completely still for a moment, and then his cousin was crawling towards him, clutching at the bottom of his jacket. Dash got immediately to his knees, Andrew taking this opportunity to bury himself into the other's chest. His hands were gripping his jacket so tightly, Dash thought it would rip.

"I tried to make it go away... I tried to make it go away..." Andrew's voice sounded strained, barely making its way out of his throat. "I couldn't though... I couldn't make it stop..."

Dash brought his arms around him, holding him, protecting him. He could feel him shaking even through his coat, his thin arms barely able to support the rest of his body.

He stayed there for a few more minutes, letting him cry, before he started to get to his feet, pulling him up with him. "Come on, come on... let's get you inside."

Andrew refused to let go as they walked over to the door, Dash unlocking it before pushing it open. Dash was practically carrying him as he went, his older cousin whimpering slightly. He had his arms around his neck now, face buried in his shoulder.

He walked straight through the apartment and to the bedroom, gingerly lowering Andrew onto the bed. It was more difficult than he thought it would be, however, as Andrew kept trying to grab onto him, not wanting to let go. After some struggle, he was finally able to get him all the way down, rubbing his shoulder softly.

Andrew's eyes stared up at him, filled with fear. He looked so lost.

"Andrew... _Andrew..._" Dash ran a hand through his hair. "Hey, I'm gonna get something to clean your arm up, ok? I'll be right back."

Andrew didn't respond.

Standing up slowly, Dash started to step away from the bed. Andrew immediately whimpered, reaching his hand out to grab at his coat.

"_Andrew..._" He took the other's hand, pulling it off of him. "Andrew, it's ok. I'll _be right back_." He looked straight into his eyes as he said this, pausing for a moment. When he tried to leave again, Andrew stayed put.

Back in the living room, Dash slid his jacket off of his shoulder, letting it fall onto the couch. He thanked himself mentally for having cleaned off the bed of sticky notes before he'd left for work that morning. There was something about leaving his bed a mess that annoyed him.

Entering the kitchen, he grabbed a roll a paper towels from under the counter, taking it over to the sink while unrolling a long sheet. He let the water run over it, soaking it, before squeezing some of the excess out. He then took both it and the remaining roll back into the bedroom.

Andrew had curled himself up on the bed, head lowered down to his chest. Dash walked over to him, climbing up on the other side of the bed and kneeling down.

"Andrew... Andrew, look at me."

It took a second, but Andrew finally turned over, raising his head to stare up at him. Dash wordlessly took his arm in his hand, squeezing a bit of water out over the stitches before bringing the towel down on them gingerly. Andrew's eyes didn't leave him as he carefully washed it, taking in the damage that had been done once he was able to see the stitches themselves. A few had been ripped clean out, most of the others covered in thicker scabs of congealed blood. Dash didn't want to clear them away in fear that it would start bleeding again.

When he'd cleaned away most of what he could, he tossed the red-stained towel on the ground before tearing a new dry one off the roll, patting it down. He winced, his stomach gurgling as he stared down at the wound, but he tried not to let it get to him as he finished up. At least it looked slightly better now.

Andrew was still shaking. He could feel it. He set his cousin's arm back down at his side before bringing his hand up to run though his hair again. Andrew instinctively curled up, this time towards Dash. His arms looked like tiny twigs as they wrapped around his chest.

Ever so slowly, Dash brought his head down until it was almost touching Andrew's. Hesitating slightly, he let his tongue stick out, letting it travel across the side of his forehead, right on the hairline. A bit braver now, he did it again, licking all along the side of his head. His mother used to do this whenever he was feeling sick, something about 'regressing to their species' roots'. Whatever the reason, though, it had always made him feel better. He hoped it would have the same effect on Andrew.

As he kept at it, he noticed his cousin's shaking lessen, almost seeming to relax beneath him. He closed his eyes, bringing his tongue in to moisten it again before letting it back out. It was calming him down too.

Dash wasn't sure of the moment when his licking changed from something comforting to something entirely different. It became slower, longer, stretching from the side of his cousin's chin and all the way across his cheek. In fact, he might not have noticed the change at all had Andrew not turned his head to look at him, causing Dash's tongue to glide directly over his mouth.

He stopped almost instantly, eyes wide in surprise. The realization of what he was doing went rushing through him, practically causing his heart to stop. Andrew's eyes, staring up at him, were completely unreadable, simply looking.

He'd been caught. Oh, he'd been caught. He felt like a teenager who'd just been found looking up porn on the internet, except this was much worse, and he knew it.

He finally pulled himself away, breath shaky. "Oh... oh god..."

And still Andrew's expression didn't change. Their eyes were locked.

"I... I have to... I have to go... cook dinner..." Dash was frozen for a moment longer before he was crawling backwards off the bed, almost falling to the floor as he stumbled to his feet. He was out the door in a flash, not stopping until he was in the kitchen, supporting himself with the fridge.

He couldn't seem to slow his breathing down, hand to his chest as his shoulders shook. His eyes were unfocused, simply staring out in front of him as his other hand clutched the plastic behind him.

That had not been planned. Oh, that _definitely _had not been planned.

He clenched his eyes shut, the sound of his heart beating in his ears.

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Dash kept to himself the rest of the night. And most of the next day, in fact. Aside from talking to his boss for a short bit in the morning, he stayed pretty much holed up in his cubicle. Even without the outside distractions, however, he barely got any work done.

He couldn't think.

Every space between the words he typed echoed '_wrong_' and every sentence was punctuated with a '_you're a sick freak_'. It wasn't exactly helping his typing skills any. It also didn't help that everytime someone walked by his desk, he thought he could feel them staring at him. It was like they knew, and they were all looking down on him. Every hushed whisper he heard was about him. Every work e-mail that he wasn't receiving was about him.

God, he wanted to curl up into a little ball under his desk. He wanted to get away from this.

What had happened to him? What had happened to the world he knew and trusted?

Maybe he really _was_ going crazy.

Towards the end of the day, his thought-process shifted from one of fear to one of denial. His fingers hit the letters on his keyboard with a bit of extra force, teeth clenched in a hardened grimace.

It wasn't his fault. It had been an accident. It had meant nothing. If he just forgot about it, it would all go away. No one would even have to know.

He was still the same Dash as before, and no one was going to tell him otherwise. He was going to call Amy up, apologize for before, ask her out for another dinner... a _nicer _dinner... one _without_ any unexpected dilemmas... and she was going to talk to him, laugh with him, smile at him... love him. Yes, she was going to love him.

He typed even faster.

He'd show everyone that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. He wasn't a freak. And he definitely was _not_ harboring any sexual feelings towards his cousin.

He finished the paragraph he was typing with a sharp rap on the 'enter' key, glaring at the screen. He sat back in his chair with his arms crossed, simply staring ahead of himself.

"Feelin' any better today, Mr. Gloomy Gus?"

He jerked his head around at the sound of the voice, finding Edwud walking past his desk with a pile of papers in his arms. The gecko had obviously been put to a few harder tasks today.

"And holy crap, when did you get glasses?"

Dash stared at him in confusion for a moment until it registered. Slowly bringing his hands to his face, he lifted the glasses off his nose, holding them out in front of him. The wire frames felt cold beneath his fingers.

"They help me see better, so I thought I'd give 'em a try. Less headaches from staring at a computer screen all day, maybe?"

Edwud glanced about quickly before actually walking up to his desk. "Well, hey, that's cool. Kind of a scraggly pair, but you look good in 'em."

Dash brought the glasses back to his face, sliding them on. "Yeah, I think I might like them."

Just around the corner, a nervous Amy stood with her back to the wall of the cubicle next to her. She was gripping Dash's coat in her arms. Edwud's arrival, however, had weakened her resolve, and after only a few minutes, she snuck away, head ducked low into her chest.

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Dinner was completely silent that night. The two cousins sat across from each other, not saying a word, not even looking at each other. The bowl of spagetti sat in the middle of the table, steam still rising slowly from it.

The sound of his teeth grinding together echoed noisily in Dash's head. Every bite seemed stickier and more sluggish than the last. He brought his fork down, sticking it into his pile of noodles before rolling them up around it. The metal scratched harshly against the ceramic plate.

Once he'd finally finished his first helping, he glanced up at Andrew. His cousin had his head lowered towards his chest, taking slow bites of his meal. He'd apparently wrapped his arm back up in a bandage today, though the wrapping, itself, was a bit sloppy. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like he'd showered, though, as his hair was still decidedly unkempt, bits of it sticking up haphazardly.

"I have to go to the grocery store tonight."

Andrew didn't look up, just staring down as he finished chewing. After a few moments, he gave the slightest of nods.

"We're almost out of milk."

This didn't even warrant a nod.

Dash turned his gaze towards his own plate, now devoid of food. His shoulders fell slightly as he let out a sigh. After a few more moments, he pushed himself up from the table, taking his plate over to the sink and setting it inside. Most of the other dirty dishes from the dinner preparation were already there, so he grabbed the drain stopper by the faucet and plugged it in, starting up the hot water.

He was halfway through rinsing off the dishes and placing them in the dishwasher by the time Andrew came over with his own. There was a slight pause as he handed it over, neither one looking in the other's eyes, and then the washing resumed. Dash's hands were beginning to turn pruny in the soapy water.

Once he'd gotten all the dishes inside the washer, he poured the soap in and programmed the automatic cycle. Wiping off his hands on a nearby towel, he let himself lean back against one of the counters, relaxing for a moment. Andrew was gone, either out of sight on the couch or back in his room somewhere. Dash chewed on the inside of his cheek, a nervous, unsettling feeling forming in his stomach.

When had his life gotten so fucked up?

Pushing away with his arms, he slung the towel over the stove rack and headed for the closet, procuring his shoes and coat. After thinking back to his walk from the car earlier, he grabbed his gloves and scarf as well, not wanting to freeze while bringing the groceries back in.

As he walked over to the door, he turned around for a second, looking back into the rest of the apartment. His mouth was open slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing. He stepped out the door silently, shutting it behind him.

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Amy was in her car, eyes focused on a small sheet of paper that she'd placed up on the dashboard. Her fingers danced nervously across the wheel as she attempted to keep her breathing calm.

_Turn left on Irvingdale_

Dash's coat sat on the seat next to her, and whenever she looked at it, the butterflies in her stomach would flutter with an even greater flurry. The weather outside was horrendously cold – so much that she'd had to scrape the ice off of her windshield just to get home from work. The car, itself, was doing its best to warm up, but she could still see air coming from her mouth with each breath.

_Take H28 until you hit State St., then take another left_

A rather catchy tune was coming from the radio, which calmed her down some. She hummed a few bars to herself as she flicked her turning signal on. The sun had almost set by now, making the sky a rather dark, purplish color, though the streetlights had been on for some time.

_Pull into the Glenbrook Complex, and it's the third building to your right_

The apartment buildings looked almost beautiful with the ice sparkling on their sides. She carefully steered her car into the parking lot, being wary of the ice that was also covering the streets, and then pulled into the first spot she could find. Now that she was here, her heart was starting to beat even quicker.

_The elevator's to your right... take it to the 5__th__ floor_

There was no one in the halls as she walked inside, though she was almost glad for it. She couldn't help but feel slightly out of place. She found the elevator with no problem, holding her breath as she pushed in the button marked with a '5'. It gave a slight jump, then began its ascent to the floor she'd chosen.

_It'll be the third door to your left_

The halls were empty up here as well. She couldn't even hear any music or TVs coming from the other rooms. The carpet squished under her feet as she began walking to the left, her eyes fixated on a door not too far away.

_Room 524_

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Dash gripped the basket in his hand as he made his way down the bread aisle. So many different choices, so many different loaves of bread staring at him from their plastic cages. He pulled his scarf down slightly, allowing him to breathe without fogging up his glasses, and then headed further down the aisle where the cheap bread was.

Why anyone would pay twice the amount for essentially the same loaf of bread was beyond him.

With the bread now in his basket, he made his way out of the aisle, skipping over the next two and into the frozen foods section. It was always nice to have a few TV dinners in the freezer, just in case. Sometimes he just didn't feel like cooking.

Though, it did cause him to frown slightly, as the dinners reminded him of the fact that he currently had no TV.

As he looked at the frozen boxes, he finally opened the door and began pulling a few out. Cheesy noodles, vegetable stir-fry, potatoes and gravy... there were a number of good-looking ones. He always chose the brand that had the grinning lion on the front.

From that aisle, he meandered his way to the back of the store where the milk and juices were. He eyed a number of the plastic cartons until he found the one with the latest date, pulling it out from the back of the stack. The addition of this to his basket made it considerably heavier, but he didn't have a whole lot else to buy.

The last place he stopped was the produce section. He'd been telling himself that he needed to start eating more fruits and vegetables lately, so he figured he might as well pick up some while he was out. He found himself drifting towards the bananas, but almost as soon as he got there, he stopped with a small grimace.

Way to add to the stereotype, Dash.

He turned away from those and went to the opposite stand instead, picking out a number of oranges and deciding to try his luck with a mango. He'd never had one before, but he randomly felt like trying something new.

Now that he was done, he veered off for the front of the store, finding the lines pleasantly short. It only took a few minutes before he was up at the teller, setting his items down on the conveyor belt and pulling his wallet from his pocket. He was continually surprised by how quickly transactions went now that all credit cards had been programmed with the ID-guard. All he had to do was flash it in front of the small glass window for it to register and pay, and then he was done. Such convenience!

Still marveling at it, he grabbed his bags from the cashier and began making his way for the door. Now if they would only devise a system of teleporting your purchases right to your car, he could _really_ shop happily. As it was, he still had to balance half his bags on his hip as he unlocked the door of his car. The icy chill in the wind whipped the edges of his scarf across his face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Amy knocked on the door tentatively, now clutching Dash's coat with her other arm. She stood there, rocking back on her heels as she waited. She couldn't help the nervous feeling that now spread from her stomach and up through her chest, and part of her actually wished that no one would be home. She bit her lip, glancing around her at the still-empty halls.

When no one answered after a minute or two, she knocked again, though with a bit more fervor. She leaned closer to the door, trying to discern any sort of noise coming from the other side.

There was still no answer.

She wondered if, perhaps, she should just set his coat down by the door. There wasn't even anyone around she could ask to give it to him. She waited a few more minutes, that same feeling even worse now.

She didn't really want to knock again – she already felt awkward enough as it was. She glanced down at the coat in her arms, sighing. Maybe she really should just leave it here, and yet, she was afraid that it would get stolen.

Ever so slightly, she let her free hand travel to the door knob, twisting it open. Her eyes opened in surprise as it turned completely, the door itself opening a crack. She let go of it almost immediately, head turning to each side, suddenly fearful. There was still no one there. No sound at all.

Pushing on the door itself, it gave a small creak as it opened further. She poked her head inside, looking around. All the lights appeared to be on, the hum of the dishwasher running filling the kitchen. It certainly _looked_ like someone was here.

"...Dash...?"

She opened the door enough that she could slip inside, head on a swivel. The apartment was quite homey, a number of knick-knacks lining the walls, a wicker basket of napkins in the middle of the table, a few rugs lining the floor. She could see into the living room past the kitchen, the side of a couch visible.

"...Dash? Are you here?"

All the way in, she let the door close behind her, still just looking around. The awkward feeling remained, but she felt slightly braver due to all the lights being on. After she'd thoroughly scoured the kitchen, she began making her way into the living room, her shoes sinking into the carpet.

There was a large couch on her left, just past the kitchen counter, and opposite of it was a strangely-empty shelf. She spent little time looking at it, however, her eyes still exploring the rest of the room.

She saw two doors on the opposite side, one was wide open, though rather dark inside. She could see the outline of a sink and toilet, realizing immediately that it was the bathroom. The other door was only open slightly, a small crack all that she could see of its interior.

She was just about to call out Dash's name again when she saw a flash of movement from behind the bedroom door. Her eyes became fixed on it, staring through it as best she could, but already it was clear again. She instinctively began moving for the door, head cocked to the side. Perhaps he had headphones on or something, or was in deep concentration. Her feet made almost no noise as she traveled across the carpet.

Once she reached the door, she placed her hand against it gingerly, trying to peer through the crack at first. It didn't allow her anymore success than she'd had before, however, so she finally began pushing the door open with her fingertips.

It opened easily, swinging all the way to the wall as she stepped inside.

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Dash slammed the car door behind him with his foot, his hands quite occupied with the bags of food he was carrying. Being wary of the ice, he began making his way up the path and to his building, bumping his hip against the handicapped-accesible button to open the doors in front of him.

He wanted to stop and rub his hands from the cold once he was inside, but couldn't because of the bags, so he just started for the elevator. It took him a few tries to get the button for his floor pushed, but he was finally able to reach a shaking finger up to the control, watching it light up at once.

He was beginning to warm up as he ascended, the feeling settling back in both his ears and nose, and his fingers burning slightly under the plastic handles of his grocery bags. As he stepped from the elevator, he rolled his shoulders back a bit to try and ease the uncomfortable crick they'd acquired, quickly strolling over to the door of his apartment.

He wasn't sure, at first, how he was going to open the door, but he finally settled on simply setting one of the bags on the ground and _then_ opening it, holding it with his hip as he recollected the bag.

Before promptly dropping _all_ of his bags as he stepped inside.

He was frozen. Absolutely frozen.

Amy stood in the middle of his living room, holding his desk lamp out in front of her as if it were a weapon. Andrew was huddled against one of the walls, an arm up to protect his head.

"...A... Amy...?"

Amy turned at the sound of his voice, eyes frightened and wild. She continued to hold the desklamp up in defense. "Dash... _Dash!_" She looked like she wanted to move, but she didn't, feet rooted firmly to the spot.

"What the hell is going on here?" He started walking slowly towards the living room, speeding up as he did. He stopped when he was situated between the two of them.

Amy readjusted her grip on the desklamp. "Dash, he... he _attacked_ me. He..."

Dash turned to look at Andrew. When their eyes met, Andrew finally moved from his spot, crawling towards him and grabbing onto one of his legs. Amy instinctively took a step back, the lamp following Andrew's movements.

"Amy... I... I don't think..."

"_Dash, he jumped on my shoulders._" Amy was practically glaring at him now, voice tense.

Dash looked from Amy to Andrew and then back up, a completely lost expression on his face. His mouth moved slightly, though no words came out. His brain attempted to make sense out of what was going on.

He could hear Amy's breath, heavy from the rush of adrenaline she must have gotten. He could feel Andrew's grip on his legs, the quickened beat of his heart where his chest was pressed up against him.

"Amy, I..."

Amy's eyes pierced into his own, unmoving.

"...I think you should leave..."

She almost jerked backwards, eyes widening even more if at all possible. Her arms were still shaking from holding the desklamp as tight as she was.

"...Dash...?"

"Please... just leave..." Dash couldn't even meet her gaze anymore, eyes shifting downwards to the floor. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

She didn't move for a moment, the sound of her breathing continuing to reverberate through the room. Finally, she loosened her grip on the lamp, muscles relaxing. "Fine... fine..." She looked away, eyes closing briefly. She took a few steps to the couch, setting the lamp down on it, before continuing towards the kitchen.

"I... I brought your coat..." She bit her lip, expression hardened, and then she was off, practically running out of the apartment. Dash winced as he heard the door slam. It was suddenly quiet. Very quiet. His breath came out shaky and disjointed.

After a few more moments, he sunk down to his knees. Andrew moved back slightly to give him room before leaning his head forward, resting it on his shoulder.

"...bitch."

The slap came almost instantly, the sound of it harsh in the completely silent room.

Neither one moved. Now it was Dash who was breathing heavily, hand still raised in the air as he simply stared at him. Andrew's head was turned in the direction he'd been slapped, eyes wide in surprise.

"Don't you talk about her like that..."

Dash's teeth were clenched, both hands curling up into fists.

"_Don't..._ you talk about her like that..."

Andrew turned to look at him slowly, shaking slightly. His eyes were wavering, staring up at Dash in disbelief.

"Why are you doing this to me? You've ruined me... you've ruined everything..." Dash had both hands into his chest now, clenching at the fabric of his shirt as he hunched forward. "Look what you've made me into..."

He raised his head slowly, looking straight at Andrew. His eyes appeared even more wild than Amy's had been, his shoulders shaking.

"Look what you've done to me... I... I hate myself... I hate what I've become..."

He raised his hands up, reaching them out towards Andrew. Taking a hold of his cousin's shirt, he pulled him closer, teeth clenched together in a grimace. Their faces were barely inches apart, his words coming out slow and precise, shaking with emotion.

"I hate... you..."

And then he kissed him, pulling him by the shirt until their lips met. His eyes were clenched shut, simply kissing with everything he had, so forceful it hurt. Tears began creeping out of his eyes, building up until they began dripping down his cheeks and below his chin. He kissed him until he couldn't anymore, the energy gone from him and his throat so tight he could barely swallow.

Then he pushed him away, eyes open and trying to make sense of the watery picture he saw before him.

Andrew was already gone, only held up by the grip Dash had on his shirt. His head fell limply to the side, eyes unseeing.

Dash just stared at him. Stared at him as tears continued to run down his face. And then he simply let him fall, his body flopping unceremoniously down to the ground. His hands burned where they'd been gripping the fabric. His mouth felt cold and bruised, the tiniest hint of copper on his tongue.

He closed his eyes, hands falling to his sides. He felt empty inside. So empty. It felt like someone was pulling on his heart, pulling it into his stomach.

Finally, without a word, he let himself fall backwards, landing on the floor with a soft bump. He opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. It was so far away. So very far away.

And then he was drifting off, the darkness enveloping him.


	4. Part 4

The final part, unless I decide to write an epilogue. I'm still thinking on it.

But either way, it'll be a while since I'm leaving the country.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read my messed-up little fic.

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The Rehabilitation of Andrew Oikonny

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Part 4

The first thing that Dash noticed when he woke up was the awful cramp that had developed in his back and neck. He felt like he'd been sleeping on a log. Like somebody had placed rocks beneath his head. Like he couldn't even move.

He opened his eyes.

The ceiling of his living room stared back at him from a distance, tiny bits of sunlight drifting in through the gaps in the blinds. He had the strangest feeling of being lost, having no idea where or when he was. He was just there.

He let out a small groan, sitting up from his position with only slight difficulty. He let his eyes glance around in front of him, seeing the familiar sight of his living room furniture. There was a blanket draped over him, which he quickly recognized as the one from the couch. He brought a hand up to run through his hair, turning around as he did so to stretch out his back.

And gave a slight jump to see Andrew sitting not that far behind him, his cousin jerking back with equal surprise.

"Ah, uh... Andrew..." Dash pulled himself all the way up, legs curling around himself as he finished fixing his hair.

Andrew just stared back at him, almost expectently. He was kneeling with his hands in his lap.

Dash looked around the room again, biting his lip. "Have you been up long?"

Andrew cocked his head to the side before giving a little shrug.

Letting out a yawn, Dash let his shoulders slump slightly, leaning forward. The grogginess was still there, but it was starting to wear off

"I made your breakfast."

This _definitely_ got a confused look from Dash. As if to prove his point, Andrew got up from his spot and made his way to the kitchen. When he appeared once more around the corner, he was holding a plate with what looked like large, flat pieces of charcoal. Dash assumed they were pancakes.

"That's... uh... that's great."

Andrew's expression didn't change. He stood there a moment longer before setting the plate down near Dash. Dash, in turn, let his eyes fall down on it for a number of seconds before reaching a hesitant hand out to grab one.

"...right..."

He was just about to take a bite when the phone rang, practically causing him to jump off the ground. Without a word, Andrew was there, phone off the hook and to his ear.

"Hello?" One hand was on his hip, his tail curling up in a bemused fashion. Dash watched him as he took a bite from the charred mass in his hand, almost immediately regretting it as he attempted to stifle a gag.

"...actually no. This is Andrew." A slight pause. "Uh-uh, uh-uh, sure... just a second." Andrew turned around, pulling the phone away from his ear. "It's for you."

Dash forced himself to swallow what was in his mouth, getting to his feet with a slight wobble. He brought his hand to his mouth for a quick yawn before reaching out to take the phone from his cousin.

"Hullo?"

The phone screamed in his ear. "_Where the hell are you man? Mr. Gualtier's practically on a rampage! We got in a mountainload of paperwork, three people called in sick, and then you just don't show up at all – he's been taking it all out on me and just totally fli-"_

Dash cringed. Oh yeah. Work.

"I... uh... Edwud..."

"_...and I'm just like 'hell if I know where he is! He didn't say anything yesterday!' But Mr. Gualtier's just all up in his ass and I'm starting to fear for-"_

"_Edwud._"

"..._my life..._ uh... yeah?"

"Edwud, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened, I just... the alarm... I don't know, it must not have woken me up." A little white lie never hurt anyone.

"Well, would you _please_ get your butt in here? Things are _not_ going very well, and I can practically see my job flitting away in the wind."

"I'm coming, I'm coming, don't worry about it... I'll be in as soon as I can."

"Please make it sooner."

Dash's eyes lifted to the ceiling. "Right, Ed. I'll be there."

There was a mutual click from both ends as the call ended. Dash stood there a moment, simply looking at the phone, then let his head fall back as he gave a sigh.

"This is just what I need right now." He turned to face Andrew, the other simply staring at him, expressionless. "I need to get ready..."

Andrew's face didn't change. "I'll get your clothes." His voice was practically monotone.

Dash watched him walk back into his room, one eyebrow raised. After a second, though, he bent down to retrieve the plate of burnt pancakes and take it into the kitchen. He wasn't about to eat anymore of these. Acting quick, he shoved them down into the garbage disposal, crushing them up into tiny bits as he did so. From there, he made his way to the fridge, wanting to at least get in a glass of juice before heading into work.

Just as he was taking a sip from his newly-poored glass, Andrew walked in, carrying a clean shirt and pants. Dash watched him from the corner of his eye, a slight frown crossing his face. He took another drink of orange juice.

In his downing of the glass, he didn't even notice as Andrew walked over, reaching his hands out to begin unbuttoning the shirt he was already wearing.

Dash instantly jerked back.

"A...Andrew... what the hell are you doing?"

Andrew looked slightly confused. "I'm changing your clothes."

Dash wasn't even sure how to respond to this, so he didn't, his eyebrows simply furrowed in concern. Finally, he lifted the glass again to get the last drips of juice out, only to find Andrew attempting again.

He immediately batted away his cousin's hands. "S-stop it, _stop it_. Just _stop_."

Andrew retreated a bit, head turned down slightly. His face was still emotionless. "Yes, sir."

Dash froze. His eyes opened wide in disbelief, hand clenching the glass. "What... did you say?"

Andrew's eyes moved up to meet his. "Yes, sir."

Dash moved his mouth wordlessly before bringing his teeth together. "You'll call me Dash. You've always called me Dash, so I don't see any reason to change it now, got it?"

Andrew's eyes turned away again. "Yes, s-... Dash..."

Dash stayed frozen a moment longer, still just looking at his cousin. Finally, he set his glass down on the counter with a slight jolt, making Andrew jump. He grabbed his clothes from the table. "I'm gonna go change."

It didn't take him long to change. He had to wet down his hair a bit, though, as it was sticking up in small clumps. He definitely didn't have time to take a shower, so this was going to have to work. At this point, he didn't really care all that much what he looked like anyway.

Exiting his bedroom, he found Andrew sitting silently on the couch, his hands in his lap. He walked right past him towards the closet, retrieving his coat and shoes. Pulling them on as quickly as he could, he grabbed his keys from the nearby rack before stepping up to the door.

He paused, eyes focused on the gap between the door and the tiles below. "I'm leaving..."

There was no answer from behind him. Not that he'd really expected any. He waited only a moment longer before opening the door and stepping outside, not even caring when it slammed shut behind him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He got an earful once he'd arrived at work. Edwud was practically in a frenzy, darting about from desk to desk with a stack of paperwork. He barely even stopped to talk to Dash once he was there, only enough to give him a quick I'm-so-glad-you're-here hug before thoroughly berating him on his tardiness. This was followed up fairly soon when Mr. Gualtier made his way around the office, only sans hug.

That being said, Dash wasn't exactly in the greatest of moods most of the day. He sat at his computer, typing up endless piles of reports and files, feeling completely void of any kind of emotion or personality. The preceding 24-hours had been more than enough to render him lifeless. This was only adding to the mountain of frustrations that had built up in his mind.

And then he barely even got a lunch break! Mr. Gualtier asked him if he could come back ten minutes early to quickly type out an agenda for his afternoon meeting, so he'd had to rush down to the employee lounge and grab some chips from the vending machine. They tasted like ash in his mouth, and his stomach already felt strangely queasy, so he ended up throwing away three-fourths of the package. He was back upstairs eight minutes earlier than he had to be.

It was after he'd typed the agenda and a subsequent sign-in sheet for the aforementioned meeting that he got the tiniest of respites. There was actually nothing waiting to be done on his desk. This allowed him time to simply lean back in his chair, letting his eyes close as he relaxed his whole body. He couldn't even explain in words how he was feeling right now. It was a strange mixture of exhaustion, nausea and nervousness – a combination that left him both jittery and dead at the same time.

An abrupt cough brought him out of his stupor.

He felt like he should be surprised, taken-back, uneasy... but he was none of these. He simply slouched forward slightly, eyebrows raised. "...hey, Amy."

Amy immediately ducked her head. She was carrying a pile of papers in her arms again. It took Dash back to the first time she'd come by his desk. She'd been standing just like that, even the same expression on her face.

He would have laughed to himself had he the energy.

"Dash, I... I..."

He continued to stare at her, not even saying anything.

"I'm sorry about... last night... really, I... I'm sorry..."

His mind was already starting to wander. He opened and closed his mouth in a soft popping noise.

"... I shouldn't have done that... I shouldn't even have come, I should have just... I... I was going to give your coat back at work, I just..."

His eyes were now slightly glazed over.

"...I hope that... that you can... I mean, I really, still..."

"I don't think it's gonna work out between us, Amy."

This startled her. Her eyes opened a bit wider, hurt, almost. "I... Dash..."

He returned his gaze to her, now staring with half-lidded eyes. "Nothing's gone right. Nothing _will _go right. I just can't do it."

Amy was fiddling with the papers now.

"Plus, I've got slightly more complicated matters going on in my life right now."

She didn't say anything for a moment, eyes having drifted downwards towards the top of his desk. Dash could tell she looked uncomfortable. "I... I see..." She pursed her lips. "I'm sorry..."

"Yeah." Dash chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I am too."

They remained silent then, neither one moving. The air between them had stilled to an almost complete stop, feeling rather heavy on Dash's shoulders.

"I... I should go... then..."

Dash didn't say anything, eyes now fixated on a circular coffee stain that he'd just discovered on his desk. After another moment, he saw her walk away through his peripheral vision.

He continued to sit there, just staring at the stain.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He didn't see Edwud again until he was packing up his things to take off for the day. He'd never felt more relieved to get away from the office than he did now, each piece of paper he filed away, each pencil he stuck back in his drawer, and each click of the mouse as he shut down his computer leading him one step closer to the completion of his day.

"God, today was long."

Dash looked up to see Edwud sitting in his usual position on the desk.

"I... am beat. Simply beat. I can't even... can't even _look_ at another Class C-2 without completely losing it."

Closing his drawer with a resounding click, Dash picked his coat up off the nearby rack and slung it over his shoulders.

"I'm going to have nightmares about Mr. Gualtier coming at me with an axe made of timesheets or something... it's not gonna be pretty."

Dash walked back over to the desk, now standing right next to Edwud. The gecko, in turn, seemed to be staring off into space, chin resting in his palm.

"Edwud."

No response.

"_Edwud_."

He turned with a jerk, eyes coming up to meet Dash's. "Hm?"

"Let's go get a drink."

Edwud raised an eyebrow. "A drink? Dash, you never wanna do stuff like that."

"I've never needed one more than I need one now."

Whether it was this statement or the intensity of the look Dash was giving him, Edwud immediately understood, sliding himself off the desk.

"Well then, Dash, my man... I'd be happy to join you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Give me the strongest stuff you've got."

Edwud's expression was priceless – a look of pure disbelief mixed with utter confusion. The gecko was leaning forward on the counter, hands cupping his elbows.

"Cripes, Dash. When you said you needed a drink, you _meant_ it."

Dash simply glowered down at the wood beneath his hands, shoulders hunched forward.

"Things haven't gotten any worse since yesterday, have they?"

The bartender sat Edwud's drink down in front of him, and he took it without a word. Dash's expression didn't change as he began scraping at the counter with a finger.

"Dash..." Edwud's tone reminded Dash of his mother. She'd sounded that same exact way when he'd done something bad. Flushing his dad's pager down the toilet wasn't quite as horrible as the situation he was in now, however.

"I kissed my cousin, Ed."

Edwud didn't move, though he continued to blink. A bit more than usual, too. The bartender sat Dash's drink down in front of him, which he took without the slightest hesitation. He downed half of it in one gulp.

"Wai-wai-wai-wait... I... I think I might be slightly confused here. I thought you just said... that you kissed your cousin." Edwud shook his head, eyebrows furrowed.

Dash stared down at his drink. "And you would be correct."

Edwud sucked his top lip down between his teeth and began chewing on it. "And... by cousin... we're referring to the one who's currently at your apartment... right?"

"Mmmm-hm." Dash had his elbows on the bar now, leaning forward slightly. His gaze drifted up to the rows of bottles that lined the upper shelves behind the counter.

Edwud brought a hand up to scratch his nose. "Ok, so... you... kissed Andrew, then. Uhh... yeah. This a... this an accident or something? What?"

Dash swirled his drink, the ice clinking noisily. He downed the rest of it without a second-thought. "Nope."

Edwud didn't have a response. He glanced back down at his own drink awkwardly, tracing the lip of it with a finger.

Dash felt his throat start to constrict, his body beginning to hunch forward. "Edwud... I... I don't know what to do anymore..." His hand was clenching his empty glass so hard he thought it would break.

Edwud glanced at him nervously. "Dash..."

"My life doesn't make sense. I don't even know what to think, I don't know how to feel... what's happening to me?" For the first time since they'd entered the bar, he turned his head to face the gecko. His eyes brimmed with tears.

"Dash... I... I don't know, man..."

Dash turned away, towards where the bartender had filled his glass back up. "I broke it off with Amy today..." He brought the newly-filled glass back to his mouth.

"You _what_?" Edwud's eyes opened in surprise. "But... but I thought it was working... I thought-"

"It was _never _working!" Dash had his teeth clenched together. "The entire thing was a sham. One big fucking _sham!_" He clunked the glass down on the counter with a resounding thud, some of the drink spilling out over his hand.

Edwud visibly winced, clearly uncomfortable. "Dash, I don't think..."

"She never liked me! Not a single bit! The only reason she was interested was because of my goddamn _grandfather_. And me? I didn't like her either! Everything... everything was just one big cover-up for my disgusting, perverted thoughts about my fucking _cousin_." His second drink was already gone. "I'm sick, Ed. I'm sick... and wrong... and... and... I'm a sick _freak_, Ed." His hands were now clutching his head, tears finally beginning to run down his cheeks.

Edwud was silent. He stayed completely still for a few moments, before bringing a hand up to finish off his own drink. The alcohol burned in his throat.

"Ed... what happened to me...?" His voice came out tiny and cracked.

Edwud rotated his empty glass between his fingers. "I don't... I don't know, Dash... I can't..." He cringed.

The bartender was already back to refill Dash's drink. When he nodded towards Edwud, the gecko responded by shaking his head. At least _one_ of them needed to be able to drive.

"Everything... everything I've lived for up 'til now, everything I'd done, everything I've worked for... what... now it's..." Dash lifted his head slightly. "What am I supposed to do?" He took the glasses off his face and set them down on the counter, wiping at his eyes with his other hand. "I can't do this anymore..."

Edwud turned his head, not looking right at Dash, but just a bit to the right. "Then don't. Send him away. Get rid of him. Dash, look what this is doing to you..." He finally raised his eyes, finding that Dash was now looking back at him as well.

Dash's eyes wavered, both of them now simply looking at each other. He turned away. "That's just it, Ed." The thrice-filled glass was brought to his mouth once more. "...I can't."

Edwud pursed his lips.

"...you don't understand. I just... I can't..."

It was silent again. Only the quiet sounds of the bar around them resounded through the air, small conversations drifting across the room.

"...maybe... maybe you need to see some help, Da-"

"Ed, you're my friend, right?" Dash's eyes were staring into his again, questioning, demanding.

Edwud was slightly taken back. "Of, of course, Dash." His eyes narrowed in confusion.

Dash turned back towards the counter before lifting his drink up to finish it. He didn't say anything else. His eyes seemed to be lost, unfocused.

Edwud waited, expecting something else, but he didn't get anything. This only resulted in adding to his frustration. "Dash, I'm worried about you..."

Dash's eyes remained unfocused, though a strange grin began to form on his face. A short laugh bit through the air. "Yeah, well you're about the only one."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Edwud refused to let him drive home, demanding that he ride with him. He even offered to swing by his apartment on the way to work tomorrow and take him to his car. Dash's only response to this act of kindness was a disgruntled 'thanks' as he slammed the car door shut behind him.

He stumbled a bit as he made his way up to his building, the thin layer of ice covering the sidewalk in splotches not helping at all either. Once he was inside, the going was a bit easier, though it did take him a few moments to fully orient himself with the elevator buttons. Their perfectly round shapes confused him.

Upon making it back to his apartment door, he was more than grateful to find it unlocked, as he was unsure if he'd be able to get his key into the lock. He twisted the knob and shoved his shoulder into the side, almost flinging it into the wall from the force. It took him a moment of rest against the doorframe before he finally came all the way inside.

Andrew was sitting at the kitchen table. Just sitting. There wasn't any food in front of him, he didn't have a book or a magazine, not even the newspaper. He was just sitting. He was wearing one of Dash's old work shirts - one of the first ones they'd given him that was about three sizes too large, even for Andrew, with only boxers on underneath. It was actually a rather amusing sight, though Dash would never have said so. He stared at him a moment, their eyes meeting, before he shuffled his way over to the closet wordlessly.

Andrew was over to him in an instant, attempting to pull his coat off. Dash grumbled something incoherent as he tried yanking it back, but Andrew didn't give up. He'd practically gotten it all the way off before Dash pushed him away roughly.

"Dammit, Andrew, I can put it away myself!"

Andrew didn't move, Dash's breath coming out a bit harder than normal. His coat hung off his arms in a way that would have been humorous were the situation any different.

With more disgruntled mumbling, Dash yanked the closet door open and shoved his coat inside, not even caring that it fell immediately to the floor. His shoes followed in the same manner. Once done, he rolled his sleeves up and began making his way towards the bedroom, totally ignoring Andrew as he stood in silence.

It took him longer than normal to get changed into his pajamas, nearly falling on his face a number of times. When had the ground in his bedroom gotten so uneven? It was like someone had come through with a big hammer and smashed down bits of the ground. Dash cursed their inconsiderate ways as he stumbled again, finally having gotten his other leg in the hole of his boxers.

When finished changing, he ventured back out towards the bathroom. His mouth tasted absolutely horrendous, and he longed to brush his teeth. He did so lazily, the bristles of his toothbrush no more than skirting across the surface of his teeth. It was enough for him, though, and he spit out the remaining paste into the sink. The sound of the water rushing as he washed it all away seemed both soothing and grating at the same time.

He made his way back to the bedroom, a pronounced yawn escaping his mouth. Once inside, he simply stood there for a moment and looked around. Everything was the same as it always was. Everything was in its place.

His stomach gurgled unceremoniously.

Walking forward towards his bed, he stretched his arms up with a small sigh. He tried to remember back to what he'd been talking about with Edwud. It seemed so long ago already. Like it hadn't even been him. He chuckled to himself. Why was Edwud always so funny?

Upon making it to his bed, he realized that he'd forgotten to turn the lights off. Grimacing, he turned back around.

Only to find Andrew standing at the door.

Dash gazed at him in confusion, eyes narrowed. He took a few steps forward, bringing his arms up to cross over his chest. "What do _you _want?"

Andrew didn't say anything. He was looking towards Dash, but not _at_ Dash. His shoulders were hunched forward slightly.

Dash took another step. "What... do you _want_?" It came out louder this time.

Andrew remained motionless. His expression was totally flat.

"Stop looking like that. Stop _giving me_ that _look!_" Dash jutted a finger out, accusing. His voice had somehow reached yelling volume without him knowing. "Why won't you _say something_?!"

Andrew's eyes rose up to meet his, but his mouth remained closed.

Dash was only a few steps from his cousin now. "_I don't know what you want!_ Are you thirsty? Are you hungry? Do you want me to fuck your goddamn brains out? 'Cuz I'll do it, too!" He grabbed him by the front of his shirt without warning, pulling him down until they were level. Before Andrew could do anything, he was dragging him across the room, shoving him onto the bed with an almost audible thwack.

Dash was on him in an instant, straddling him. "Is this what you want? Is it?" He was already working on unbuttoning Andrew's shirt, working from the top down. "_Is this what you fucking want?!_"

Andrew's expression remained ever the same. Completely void. He looked up at Dash without any emotion, his arms simply splayed out to the sides.

Dash made it all the way down his shirt and had just gotten the fly of his boxers undone when he stopped, staring. Staring at his cousin. Nothing had changed. Nothing. He couldn't make that look go away. He couldn't make it stop.

"Stop looking at me like that."

But Andrew didn't. He didn't do anything. He just lay there.

"Stop _looking at me like that_."

Dash felt the heat rise from his chest to his face. He clenched his hands tightly, leaning forward.

"_I'm not my grandfather!!_" It was building. Oh, it was building up inside of him. And he couldn't stop it. "_I'm not my grandfather!!"_ He raised his fist into the air, bringing it down to Andrew's face with a horrifying thud. Andrew's head was whipped to the side, the only visible response that he felt it was a slight tightening around his eyes.

"_I'm not my grandfather!_" He punched him again, now lost in his own unrelenting wave of anger and fear. He let them come down like a hailstorm, sending blows across Andrew's head and chest. Tears had started to run down his cheeks, unchecked.

"I'm not... I'm not..." He couldn't even see him now through the tears. It was one big, giant blur. His fist came down once more, right across the bottom of his cousin's eye. He couldn't feel anything. His body was numb.

The sound of his breathing, practically heaving in his ears, reverberated around him. His lungs ached, throat so constricted he could barely swallow.

The dark blob that was Andrew remained motionless beneath him. His arms were still flung out to his sides, shirt and pants open and completely disheveled. Dash's breath caught in his throat, hands shaking as he brought them in to his chest.

"...Andrew...?"

He wiped at his eyes, trying to clear them of the tears. A small stream of blood was dripping from Andrew's nose, and bruises were already starting to appear all across his face, neck and chest.

"...Andrew...?"

Dash leaned forward, running a shaky hand through his cousin's hair. And then he was practically falling on him, arms reaching around to clutch him tightly as he tried to bury his face into the other's neck.

"Andrew, I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry..." The tears fell from his eyes as he clenched his hands into the fabric of Andrew's shirt. He could feel his chest rise and fall beneath him, slowly. Labored. He ground his teeth together so hard he thought they would break.

He began crawling forward on the bed, dragging Andrew with him. He could barely see through his watery eyes, but he just kept moving. Andrew was completely limp in his grasp, head and arms falling uselessly to the sheets below them. Once he'd made it up to the pillow, he let himself fall down on it in exhaustion, tears quickly soaking the fabric beneath. He continued to tug on Andrew until he'd gotten his frail body all the way even with his, curling his arms around and hugging him into his chest. With another shuddered sob, he leaned his head into the back of the other's neck, just holding him.

"I'm so sorry..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dash hadn't smoked since his military days. He'd given it up along with a number of the other activities he partook in that he'd deemed contradictive to his change in lifestyle. Of course, there was that single box he'd kept, buried away in the bottom of his underwear drawer.

And that was what he had in his hand now as he sat on his balcony, staring out at the half-risen sun. He had a cigarette pressed between his lips, a thin trail of smoke leaking upwards. Everything around him was so silent and calm – the world hadn't woken up yet. Even small noises made by the very early risers were muffled by the snow both on the ground and falling lightly through the air.

Dash obviously hadn't slept well the night before, and upon waking up just a few minutes shy of 5:00, he wasn't able to get back to sleep. So he hadn't even tried. Andrew was still totally out, looking at least semi-peaceful through the bruises that now littered his face, and just the idea of sleeping no longer appealed to Dash.

So he'd gone outside to smoke. He didn't know why, he just did it. He didn't even change his clothes – still wearing his boxers and t-shirt. He wasn't cold, though. His body seemed immune to it somehow. The fat snowflakes fluttering down through the sky seemed to enchant him, flitting back and forth in the small wisps of air.

There was something so strange about looking down on Corneria City this early in the morning. The just visible sun was casting an orangish glow across a few of the buildings, everything else a very soft shade of blue and gray. It was eerie and calming at the same time.

Dash took another drag from his cigarette. He'd forgotten how good it felt. Those years seemed so long ago. Ages ago.

And how things had changed. Back then, he was getting shot at, flying for his life, experiencing that rush of adrenaline that couldn't be felt anywhere else, and yet... his life held no complications. He didn't have any regrets, frustrations, unanswerable questions... all he did was fly. Fly open and free. He didn't care if he blew up in one second, just that he was free, out where nothing mattered anymore.

And now that he'd escaped from that to be somewhere 'safe', away from the influence and temptations of his grandfather... now... now it seemed like he didn't understand anything anymore. No matter how hard he'd tried to run away, his grandfather kept coming back. No matter how hard he tried to set his life down the right path, things kept happening to completely screw it up again.

It didn't make sense.

He didn't understand anything in his life anymore. He thought he knew, he thought he had everything under control, but it had all been a ruse. One big, giant ruse. He'd entered the race of life and somehow gotten himself on the 'shit-outta-luck' path.

A car pulled out of the parking lot down below him. His ears heard it, but his mind didn't register it. The powdery snow that continued to fall crunched beneath its tires.

He wished his mother was still here. She'd always seemed to know the right answers. Well, for him anyway. She obviously hadn't been able to discern them for herself. Dash hoped that somehow during that time she'd attempted to slice her ears off she'd found at least _some_ solace. Wherever she was now, he prayed that she was free of that voice. Free of her father.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. Sure, _she_ was free of him now, but what about him? He was still here, suffering the consequences. He was still being haunted by a man long killed. He was still facing the guilt of having that same blood running through his veins.

He took a much longer drag on his cigarette. A few snowflakes danced across his vision.

What if there was nothing he could do to fight it? Did he even have any choice in his destiny? He'd already attempted to flee it once, obviously without much success. And in doing so, he'd discovered a number of disturbing things about himself, things that were impossible to change. Things he'd simply had to accept.

_Did _he accept them? He supposed so. He couldn't do anything about them, so he wasn't even gonna try anymore. Might as well put the majority of his energy into at least trying to get his work back on track. He'd like to move out of this apartment, find an actual house somewhere... perhaps he was dreaming too big, though. He didn't deserve anything like that, not after all he'd done.

Andrew deserved more than he did, but again, there was nothing that could be done about that either. He was too selfish to let him go. He was just too selfish in general – always taking, taking, taking... hell, he was surprised anyone even put up with him anymore. Maybe that's why his dad rarely called. Maybe that's why his relationships never seemed to work out. He was too selfish.

That and he didn't want to be alone. God, he didn't want to be alone anymore. Now that he'd grasped that feeling, that feeling of someone being there for him, of having someone to talk to, of not having to live his life afraid of the darkness... yeah, he wasn't giving it up now. He couldn't.

Technically, that was still being selfish, though, wasn't it? It was all for him. He didn't really care what anybody else thought. Was that what everyone was like? Deep down inside, didn't everyone only care about themselves? It was kind of in their nature. That survival instinct.

He sighed, watching the hot air from his mouth rise up to mingle with the cigarette smoke. He remained motionless for a few more moments, eyes still taking in the view before him, before he pushed himself up and off the chair, letting his nearly burnt-out cigarette fall to the concrete below.

The air seemed hot and stuffy when he walked back inside, a complete contrast to the breeze on the balcony. He slid the door closed behind him, taking in the sight of his dark room. He could make out only a few things at first, but as his eyes began to readjust themselves, more and more began popping out through the darkness.

He didn't know why, but he made his way back over to the bed, looking down at the still form of his cousin. Gingerly, he sat himself down beside him, bringing one hand up to run through his hair. His face looked like a mess, one eye completely darkened by a large bruise, dried blood caked beneath his nose, his bottom lip split. Dash's eyebrows furrowed as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"...Andrew."

There was no response save the gentle rise and fall of the other's chest.

"..._Andrew_."

A slight shift. Dash watched as his eyes fluttered open, though the rest of his body stayed still. He moved his hand back, catching Andrew's attention at the same time. This caused him to turn his head upwards, eyes gazing around in confusion.

"...hey."

Andrew didn't say anything in return. His face was still expressionless, void of emotion.

"Andrew, I... I'm sorry... I'm sorry about everything..." He had to turn down his eyes at this, focusing on a portion of the bedsheets. He tried to formulate his next words inside his head, though incurring some slight difficulty.

"I just... I, I don't want to say this, but... I'm afraid. You know what that's like, Andrew, don't you? I'm afraid... I don't know what to do..."

Andrew's eyes were practically boring holes into his own when he looked back, though he remained ever silent.

"I don't want to be all alone..."

A chill ran down his spine, though it wasn't from the cold. He wasn't sure what it was from, actually, though it made him feel uneasy. He hissed slightly between his teeth, taking in a rather forced breath.

"You... you won't leave me alone... will you? You wouldn't let that happen..."

Dash reached down to trace his hand across Andrew's forehead and down to his ear, running lightly through his hair. Andrew's eyes were wavering, and Dash thought he could make out traces of moisture appearing in the corners.

"I love you, Andrew. You know that, don't you? I love you..."

He lowered himself until his chin was resting on Andrew's shoulder, arms around him in a half-embrace. The pillow beneath them pushed up in Dash's face, causing his glasses to press against his skin, but he paid it no heed. With one of his hands, he began rubbing the side of Andrew's arm.

"You'll never leave me, Andrew..."

And still, Andrew remained silent. The only sound was the shuddering of his breathing as his eyes gazed lifelessly in front of him.


End file.
